Man of Tomorrow: Blackened
by Kuraun15
Summary: The sequel to Man of Tomorrow: Last Son and the second book in the Man of Tomorrow series. With a solid job and a chance at a relationship with Lois Lane along with a gig as a superhero, Clark Kent seems to have it good. But a threat looms underneath the artificial skin of John Corben, who is unleashed by the manipulative Manchester Black. Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

Man of Tomorrow: Behold the Steel Soldier

CHAPTER I

The day after I'd defeated Brainiac and asked Lois out went smoothly. I had a little work to do, but other than that, it was pretty relaxing. With this being the case, when Jimmy and I got back to our dorm from work, I said, "I'm going to visit the Fortress in a few minutes." "What for?" he asked, "You had a long night last night. You should get some more rest." "I have to know what's going on with Brainiac," I said, "I have to make sure he's not going to pose a threat anymore." Jimmy sighed, saying, "Fine, Man." I got on my costume, flying back to the Fortress. Once I walked through the entrance, Kelex came up to me, saying, "Hey, wait. You should be resting." "Heard it before, Kelex," I said, "Where's Brainiac?" "Oh, you've come to check up on him, eh?" asked Kelex. I nodded. "All right, then," said Kelex, "Here you go." He pressed a few buttons on the screens along the wall, and a large section of the wall opened up. Brainiac's lifeless body was hanging from several cables, his eyes and diodes darkened. "So, without the kryptonite, he'll never be a threat, right?" I asked. "Unless someone manages to connect him to a network, yes," said Kelex, "He could go wherever he pleased if that happened. He's not the kryptonite, that was just his power source. He's an A.I. Those cables connected to him are keeping him inactive. I had to be very careful making sure they didn't connect to anything outside of here." "Good," I said. I had a thought, but I hesitated voicing it.

Kelex looked at me, saying, "What is it?" I said, "Well...Brainiac is an A.I. That means he can be programmed. What if you could allow him to feel happiness? Or any of the other positive human emotions? Would he turn around?" Kelex stared at Brainiac for a few seconds before saying, "It'd be a very difficult procedure. Who knows, though. Maybe." He looked back at me, finishing, "But maybe we'd be better off without the answer." I sighed, saying, "Okay, thanks, Kelex." I walked out of the Fortress, flying back to my dorm. By this time, it was around seven o' clock. Once I got in, I took off my costume, collapsing onto my bed. A few minutes later, my phone rang. I picked up, hearing Lois on the other end. She said, "Yes." "Really?" I said excitedly, "You'll go out with me?" "Against my better judgment, yeah," she responded. "Okay, uh, how about tomorrow at six?" I asked. "I think that'll be just fine," said Lois, "What movie do you want to see?" "I don't know, what do you want to see?" I asked. Lois eventually answered, "They came out with a sequel to that superhero movie from last year." I raised my eyebrow, saying, "A superhero movie, eh?" "I know it doesn't seem all that romantic, but I've always been into superheroes," she said. I smirked, saying, "I haven't seen that one yet. Okay. I'll set up a dinner reservation somewhere." "Sounds good," said Lois, "And by the way, don't be late, or it's off." "Deal," I said. Lois hung up, and I smiled.

I called Jimmy, who happened to be buying food. "Dude," I said, "She said yes." He laughed, saying, "Nice, bro. What's the plan?" I explained the date. Jimmy said, "I'm kind of surprised you'd go to see a superhero movie, especially this one." "Well, you know, once you get used the whole superhero thing in real life, it gets easier," I said. "Nice," said Jimmy, "Well, remember, just get some rest. I think it'd be preferable not to look like a zombie on your first date." "Got it," I said, "See you, Jimmy." "Bye, Clark," said Jimmy, hanging up. Meanwhile, Lois was talking to Paige on the phone, saying, "I did it. I said yes." Paige said, "Good. It'll go fine, don't worry. I've told you time and again, Clark is a nice guy." "He asked me outside my window in the middle of the night!" said Lois. "So what if his asking was weird," said Paige, "I think you'll enjoy yourself." "Well, you were the one who told me to say yes, so if it turns out bad, it's on you," said Lois. Paige said, "I'll be fine with that." Lois rolled her eyes, sighing and saying, "All right, bye." Paige said, "Bye," and hung up. Lois put on her jacket, walking out of her dorm and going on a walk.

The next day, I was terribly excited. I would finally get to date Lois. When we went into work, one of the more superior employees told me, "Hey, Clark. The boss has a little something for you." "What is it?" I asked. The employee said, "We got a robbery not too far from here. The robbers aren't heavily armed, and they've been explicit about their intentions not to hurt anyone. This'll give you some valuable experience, I tell you." "How long do you think it'll take?" I asked. "You'll probably be out of there by four o' clock." I smiled and said, "Perfect. Uh, do you mind if I take Jimmy with me?" "I don't think it'll be a problem," said the employee. I nodded, walking out of my little cubicle. I passed Lois on my way out, and she asked, "Hey, are we still on for tonight?" "Yeah, I've got an assignment, but I should make it," I replied. "You'd better hope you will," she said, "'Cause if you don't, you won't get another chance." "Got it," I said. I went by Jimmy, saying, "We got a job." "Great," said Jimmy, "Where?" "You'll find out," I said. We walked outside, and I hailed a taxi. Just a few minutes later, we were outside the bank where the robbery was taking place. It was surrounded by police cars and yellow tape. I walked up to one of the officers, saying, "Hi, I'm from the Daily Planet. Could you tell me who the senior officer here is?" The officer pointed to his right, saying, "Big guy, name of Porteau. You can't miss him." I thanked the officer, walking in the direction he pointed. I looked around, eventually seeing an officer with a nameplate that read Porteau.

I walked up to him, saying, "Excuse me, are you officer Porteau?" He turned, saying, "Yes. And you are?" I shook his hand, saying, "Clark Kent. I'm a journalist from the Daily Planet. This is my friend, Jimmy. He'll be taking photographs, if you don't mind." "Sure," said Porteau, "And by the way, you've got quite the grip, Mr. Kent." "Yeah, I get that a lot," I said, laughing lightly. I cleared my throat, pulling out my recorder and saying, "So, how did these guys get in?" "One of them got hired as a janitor here," said Porteau, "Today, when there was a minimum of people in the bank, he called in his three buddies. A white van pulled up, two of them hopped out, and the third drove off. He probably figured he'd pick them up somewhere else." "So, how did you guys get here so soon?" I asked. "Well, these guys aren't exactly geniuses," said Porteau, "They managed to miss a clerk hitting the silent alarm." I nodded, stopping my recorder, and saying, "I think I'll continue in just a little bit. Do you mind if I use the restroom in the next building? I'll only be a minute." "Not at all," said Porteau, "Go ahead. We'll be here." As I walked past Jimmy, I whispered, "Get your camera ready now." Jimmy smirked. He didn't know until that moment that I was wearing my costume underneath my clothes. While it was extremely uncomfortable, it worked surprisingly well.

I saw a phone booth just outside the building I was looking to go into. I almost went in there, but of course, it was made almost entirely of clear plastic, so I just said to myself, "Nah," and walked into the building. I went into their bathroom, quickly taking off my outer clothes, revealing my costume. I pulled my mask and hood out of my bag, putting them on and speeding out of the building. Though it caused a large draft, I managed to go fast enough that no one noticed. I flew into the air, saying loudly, "Officers! How about some assistance?" I had deepened my voice terribly, and I caught a glimpse of Jimmy shaking his head and scrunching up his face. He mouthed "NO" several times. I nodded slightly, clearing my throat. Officer Porteau said, "Maybe. Do you know what to do in this kind of situation?" "Don't worry," I said, floating down and putting on a gruff voice, "I'll get the people inside to safety, and those criminals won't stand a chance." Porteau nodded, saying, "Fine. We'll distract them first." I nodded back. Porteau walked over to the negotiator, giving him instructions. Eventually, I heard him say through his megaphone, "We're sending in one of our guys. Stay put, and he'll provide you with some of your demands." I quickly went through the front, grabbing every hostage inside and running out. I put them all down behind a large truck, saying, "Stay here." I ran back over and into the bank, standing in front of all the robbers in my own attempt at a heroic stance. I actually looked kind of stupid, considering I was standing with my legs spread and my fists on my hips.

"Who're you?" said one of the robbers. "I'm Superman," I said. "Superman?" said a robber, "The superhero who's been on the news?" "No, the one with a cooking show," I said sarcastically, charging forward. I punched the robber in the gut, sending him across the room. He crashed into one of the wooden counters. "Yes, of course, the one on the news!" I said loudly. The other three robbers pulled their handguns on me, firing several times. The bullets felt like nothing on less sensitive areas, like small flicks on more sensitive areas. Eventually, they stopped. "You done?" I said. One of the robbers said under his breath, "Oh, #$&." I quickly lunged forwards, grabbing one robber by his ankle and throwing him into one of his buddies. They were both knocked unconscious. I turned to face the third robber, saying, "You might just want to turn yourself in." The robber dropped his gun, holding his hands in the air. "Ha," I said, "You've done yourself a buttload of good." I walked out of the bank, going to Porteau and saying, "They're ready for you in there." "Thanks," said Porteau, shaking my hand. I made sure to shake his hand very lightly and carefully. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm sure I have other things to attend to," I said. I flew off, circling back and climbing through the bathroom window of the building next to the bank. I quickly threw my clothes on and threw my hood and mask into my bag, waiting a little bit. I walked out a few minutes later, going up to Porteau.

The three robbers I'd attacked were already being treated in ambulances, and the other, unharmed robber, was in police custody. "What happened?" I asked. "Superman happened," said Porteau, "I'm surprised you missed it." I said nervously, "Well...When you've got to go..." "Yeah, okay," said Porteau. I cleared my throat uncomfortably, taking out my recorder and saying, "So, tell me exactly what happened." Porteau gave me an accurate account of what transpired inside the bank. I nodded once he finished, saying, "And, uh, what are your personal thoughts on his motives?" "I don't think he's in it for the glory, at least," said Porteau, "I mean, he didn't stay for the press. I think he's an okay guy. But as for everyone else...I can't say what they'll think." "Sure," I said, "Of course. Well, thank you, sir." "Anytime," said Porteau. I turned off my recorder, walking over to Jimmy. "Did you get anything?" I asked. "Plenty," said Jimmy, scrolling through the photos, "This'll do just fine." "I'll say," I said, "Okay, I'm going to interview some of the witnesses. You can take some more photos. And then..." Jimmy interrupted, "You've got to get ready for a very hot date." I raised my eyebrows and grinned, walking over to the witnesses and hostages. Later, I was putting on a tie as the finishing touch on my outfit for my date with Lois. "You ready?" asked Jimmy. "Yeah," I said, "Is the car gassed up?" "Uh-huh," said Jimmy. We'd managed to get Jimmy's car shipped to Metropolis. I walked out of our dorm, getting into Jimmy's car and driving the short distance to the girls' dorm building. Lois walked out in a beautiful red dress, her hair newly done and her makeup near-perfectly applied. "You look great tonight," I said, opening the front door for her. "Thanks," she said, smiling. I smiled as well, closing the door after she hopped in and sighing contentedly.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER II

On the way to the restaurant, Lois asked me, "So, where are we going?" I told her which restaurant we were heading to. Her eyes widened, and she said, "That's really expensive! How'd you afford that?" "I have some money saved up from my old job," I said, "I figured I'd use it on a rainy day. But fortunately, I have a better reason to spend it. And that reason is sitting next to me." Lois said, "Aw, that's so sweet! What was your old job?" "I co-owned and operated my family's general store in Smallville. Being in that position pays well, considering it was a small town. Speaking of which..." I reached into the back seat, grabbing some bright orange roses. Lois took them, saying, "Wow! I love these!" "I thought you might," I said, "You know, orange roses signify amazement." "I think I can tell where you're going with this," said Lois with a smile. "I'm amazed by you," I said, "That's the long and short of it." "Thanks, Clark," said Lois. She paused, eventually saying, "So, what was Smallville like?" I laughed lightly, saying, "Exactly how it sounds. Small town, small population, small school, the whole setup. Most people are nice, everybody knows everybody for one reason or another, that kind of thing." "It sounds like it's great," said Lois. "It sure is," said Clark, "I lived there for eighteen years, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I met my best friend there, and he met his girlfriend, your cousin, there as well. Speaking of, do you know how they're doing? Relationship-wise, I mean." "Oh, they're great!" said Lois, "I have a feeling about those two." I nodded, smiling.

"So, how about you?" I asked, "What was it like, growing up in the big city?" Lois answered, "Well, my family moved here when I was two, and even then, my parents thought the city would be perfect for me." "Moved from where?" I asked. She said, "My family used to be in Smallville, too. My dad accepted a job in Metropolis. Again, I was only two, so, Metropolis is really all I've ever known. But anyway, I've always loved it. The bustle of the streets during rush hour has this...charm to it." "With cabbies cursing loudly and horns honking constantly?" I said skeptically. "There's more to it than that," said Lois. "Ah, maybe it's just because I grew up in Smallville," I said, "I wouldn't understand all the big-city stuff." "You'll get there," said Lois, smiling. I smiled too, in confidence and in happiness, as we pulled up to the front of the restaurant. There was a valet standing on the curb. I tossed him the car keys, saying, "Be gentle with her." The valet nodded, and I went around, opening the door for Lois. She carried the roses with her. I walked up to the front, saying to the maitre d', "Reservation for two, under Kent." He looked his list over, saying, "Ah, here it is. Right this way." "Thank you," I said, walking with him. He led me and Lois to a small, circular table. "Here you are," he said. "Thank you," I said again, pulling out Lois' chair for her. We sat facing each other.

A waiter walked up to us, asking, "What would you like to drink? Would you like to see the house wines?" "No, thank you," I said, laughing lightly, "I'll just have water, please." "And for you?" he asked Lois. "Same, thank you," said Lois, smiling. The waiter nodded, walking off. Lois and I picked up our menus, and Lois immediately said, "Some of these are kind of hard to pronounce." I laughed and said, "They sure are. But hey, you know, it's quality." "Well, at least I know not to order the escargot," said Lois. She stuck out her tongue. I laughed, saying, "It is a little conflicting, though. Some of these sound great!" "Sounding and tasting are two different things," said Lois, "Be careful." "Always," I said. A few minutes later, the waiter showed up again with our drinks, saying, "Are you ready to order?" I said, "Uh, I think I'll have the house special, please." The waiter nodded and turned to Lois. Lois said, "I'll have the house salad." The waiter nodded once again, saying, "When in doubt, order the house dishes. Very good choices." I nodded, and the waiter walked off again. "So, what is the house special?" asked Lois. "No idea," I said, "But the name of the actual food looked pretty awesome, so I may as well take a chance." "How much did it cost?" asked Lois. "Not too much," I said, "I brought a bunch of money with me. We're fine." Lois sighed with relief, saying, "Good." About half an hour later, our food came out, and was set down in front of us. As the waiter walked off, I said, "This looks delicious." "It sure does," said Lois. I looked down at the utensils in front of me.

"Fortunately, I googled how all of this works," I said, successfully using the correct fork. Lois said, "I already know how." She quickly picked up the correct fork for her salad. "Show-off," I said, smiling. We managed to do everything right while eating our food, and when we finished, the waiter walked up again, saying, "Are you ready for the check?" "Yes," I said, nodding. The waiter handed me the check. I sighed with relief, saying, "Okay, I was right. I have enough to cover this." I paid and checked my watch. I nodded, saying, "All right, the movie starts in about thirty minutes. It's just around the corner. You want to go early, or what?" "Sure," said Lois. "We're a bit overdressed, though," I said. "Eh," said Lois, "The haters will just have to deal with it." I laughed, standing up. I held out my hand. Lois took it, standing. We walked out, getting the car keys and walking over to the car. Once again, I opened the door for her, getting in the driver's seat. It only took us a couple minutes to get to the theater, meaning we'd have plenty of time before the movie started. We got out of the car. Lois nearly started walking towards the theater, but I said, "Wait. Look up." She did, saying, "What about it?" "You can't see the stars," I said, walking up to her and holding her hand, "That's another reason I really like Smallville. All the stars came out at night." "Well, in the absence of stars, you have the city lights," said Lois, pointing to her left. We walked to the theater very slowly, looking out towards the city, the dazzling lights on the buildings and the numerous cars rushing down the streets illuminating the surroundings. We both smiled, savoring the moment.

After the movie, I dropped Lois off at her dorm building, saying, "Have a good night." I kissed the back of her hand. She said, "You too. Thanks for the roses." She suddenly kissed me lightly on the cheek. I was immediately dazed, staring at her. She said, "Tonight was great." "Y-yeah, it was," I said, still dumbfounded. Lois walked into her dorm building. As the door closed behind her, I waited for a few seconds before pumping my fists and shouting, "YES!" I jumped, grinning widely and shouting again, "HECK YEAH!" Suddenly, I saw a shirtless, sleepy guy poke his head out of his dorm window. He shouted, "WHAT THE *&$%, MAN?! I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!" "SORRY!" I shouted back, "MY FIRST DATE WENT AWESOME!" The guy seemed to understand, nodding and shouting, "GOOD ON YOU! JUST PLEASE BE HAPPY ABOUT IT SOMEWHERE ELSE!" I nodded, lowering my arms. Unbeknownst to me, Lois had listened in by opening her window a crack and waiting. She laughed lightly. Meanwhile, I got into Jimmy's car. I parked, getting out and walking to my dorm building. I looked upwards. With all the lights off on the campus except for streetlights, the stars were shining brightly. I smiled up at them, wondering which direction I came from. Regardless, I said, "I know you can't hear me, Jor-El, but...your kid did well today. I took a pretty girl out for dinner and a movie. I wonder if you had movies on Krypton. Some part of me doubts it. But, I think you get the gist." I walked to the entrance to my dorm building, opening the door and taking one last look at the stars before entering.

Meanwhile, Alexander was walking up to Luthor's office. He said to Mercy, "As lovely as ever, Mercy." Mercy said nothing whatsoever, simply continuing to work. "Of course," said Alexander under his breath. Alexander went into the office, where Luthor was on his phone. Alexander walked in to hear Luthor finish a sentence, "...shipment will be at your doorstep in no time." He saw Alexander entering, saying, "I'll have to talk to you later." He hung up, asking Alexander, "What is it this time?" "A bit of an update," said Alexander, "I already told you about the Metal 0 project." "Yeah," said Luthor. "Well, it turns out it went smoothly," said Alexander, "The subject, John, has been fully integrated with the parts that have changed him into a potential weapon. He is now nearly seventy percent metal." "So, what have you been doing?" asked Luthor. "I've been monitoring him," answered Alexander, "We managed to replace one of his eyes with a camera. I can see exactly what he sees, and he's none the wiser." "And you've found...what, exactly?" asked Luthor. "Nothing much," said Alexander, "But enough to figure out that he's not realized what exactly we did to him. Some of his behavior indicated that he's a little unsettled, but he hasn't figured anything out." "You must have been extremely precise," said Luthor, raising his eyebrows. "That we were," said Alexander, "We gave him everything. If he needs a spinal tap, done. If he needs his heart or lungs checked, covered. If he eats...he has to use the little boys' room." "So, he's just going to walk around, unaware of what he really is?" said Luthor, "That's your plan?" Alexander smirked.

"For a while, at least," he responded, "With all the precautions I've told you about, he'll have some difficulty. But eventually, he'll discover that the fake heart in his chest isn't what keeps him running, it's the chunk of irradiated metal right next to that fake heart." "You know, you talked about all those medical procedures," said Luthor, "What if he needs an MRI?" "The materials we used aren't magnetic," Alexander, "Well, at least not the metal. I don't know if kryptonite is magnetic yet." "And if it is?" asked Luthor. "Then he'll know something's up," said Alexander, "But again, it's what I want. If he freaks, he'll attract attention, preferably Superman's. And if that happens, he'll be in for something much worse than anything before." "So, is that it for now?" asked Luthor. "Yes," answered Alexander, "Bye." Alexander walked out, smiling. Meanwhile, at the Fortress, Kelex was doing absolutely nothing, standing in power save mode directly in the middle of the Fortress. Suddenly, he felt a signal hit him. "Wait a minute," he said, "I know that radiation signature." He rolled over to the computers, quickly sending them the signal. Within seconds, the computers had a definite match. Kelex cursed in Kryptonian, calling my phone. I picked up, saying, "How'd you reach me? And anyway, it's the middle of the night." "You'll want to see this," said Kelex. I sighed, saying, "Fine." I hung up, not even bothering to get into the Superman costume.

I flew sleepily to the Fortress, landing a few feet from the entrance. "KELEX, I'M HERE!" I shouted hoarsely. The doors flew open, and Kelex rolled up to me, saying, "Come in, quickly." "Whoa, Kelex, what's the problem?" I asked as Kelex began tugging on my arm. "Just come on!" said Kelex. I walked in, and Kelex said, "I was in power save mode not too long ago. I received a signal all of a sudden. Look what and where it's coming from." I looked, seeing the monitors display kryptonite and a small green blip in Metropolis. "There's more?" I asked. "Apparently," said Kelex, "Some of Brainiac's must have been taken and used to irradiate some other material." I stared at the green blip, a feeling of terror slowly washing over me.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: To the guy who decided it was worth his time to leave bashing reviews containing (thus far, anyway) six F-bombs in total in response to my purposeful ignorance of a certain writing rule: I don't start a new paragraph with each line of dialogue out of convenience and a bit of an addiction to structure. I will not change this in these stories, even though I am already aware of this writing rule. For other stories in which I won't have a desire for so much structure, you will see me follow this rule. Also, if you wanted me to even listen to you whatsoever, you would at least make an actual account and have the common courtesy to PM me with your grievances. And finally, I'm glad you enjoyed the rest of the story enough to keep reading. Or maybe you're just that persistent and butthurt. In the latter case, you are welcome to become my first official hater. The position won't be paid of course, but I'm SURE you'll find great personal fulfillment through leaving vulgar reviews on my stories.

P.S.: All three of your deplorable reviews have been deleted, and any other reviews you post will be deleted as soon as I see them if you continue the same vulgar trend. Thank you.

P.P.S.: I don't like you. Like, at all. You are a major irritant. But your spamming won't work. Give it the freak up.

P.P.P.S.: Oh yeah, also, I was homeschooled, and I'm starting college next week at the age of fifteen. I already knew about this writing rule (my good friend Shadacia Reneelia alerted me), but again, I'm choosing not to follow it. It's not about being a "rebel", as if something like this would even be worth rebelling against. It's about an introvert with a major addiction to length consistency.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER III

That green blip sent its signal from the chest of one John Corben. At this time, he was tossing and turning in his sleep at the hospital. Once he had reached the hospital, the staff made him stay there, as they had no idea what had transpired after he was taken. And so, now he was back in a hospital gown, with an IV in his hand and machines keeping watch on his vitals. His artificial heart sent coordinated electrical pulses to simulate a heartbeat, and his artificial lungs allowed him to take breaths. However, his dreams weren't helped at all. He had rapid images of bloody operations flash through his mind in succession. One minute, an arm was being messily severed, the next, the side of a face was being cut open. Bones were removed, skin was cut, organs were ripped out. John knew none of these dreams had anything to do with guilt or memories from his time in war. But he still couldn't figure it out. He knows a large-scale operation was performed on him not too long ago, but he didn't think anything like what was happening in the dreams occurred. The final image was a large, glowing green orb being lowered into a cavity made in the unknown patient's chest. He suddenly woke up in a cold sweat. He attempted to go back to sleep, failing miserably. The next morning, a nurse walked in, saying, "How are you doing today, John?" "Fine," said John, "I could be much better though. I had a terrible dream last night." "Well, at least you're not dead," said the nurse. John laughed lightly, saying, "Yeah, that's for sure." The nurse checked his vitals and said, "You look just fine. I'll be in here later with your breakfast." John nodded his thanks, and the nurse walked out. Then the feeling returned again. The feeling that something might be wrong with him, worse than cancer. He felt the side of his face. Just like before, he couldn't feel a thing. The feeling of ultimate numbness was surreal, and frightening.

Meanwhile, Alexander was monitoring John and had recorded his brain activity from the nightmares. "Cool," said Alexander, "Part of his subconscious has already begun to realize what really happened." Alexander took out his phone, searching for my number. With the kind of tech he was in possession of, he was able to find it with ease. He dialed my number, putting his phone on speaker. I answered, "Yes? This is Clark." "Hi, Clark," said Alexander, "You probably don't recognize my voice. After all, I only said a few things to you." "What?" I said. "Meet me at the Metropolis city park in half an hour," said Alexander, "That's all I'm giving you." He hung up before I could say anything else. I was puzzled, but I decided it was worth checking out. I was at work, though, so I said to one of my superiors, "Hey, I think I might have an interesting story on my hands. I need to find out if the guy is willing to interview." The superior looked slightly suspicious, but he said, "All right, Clark. Go ahead." I got out of the building quickly, calling a cab and going to the park. Once I got there, I walked around, looking for whoever it was that called me. Suddenly, I got a text. It read, "To your left. About a hundred yards. I know you can see me from there." I looked, seeing Alexander. He waved. I barely recognized him, but it was enough. I ran over, almost slipping into my super speed. "You!" I said angrily, "You're the one who stabbed me with the kryptonite!" "Ah, so you've been educated," said Alexander, smiling, "Great. We can cut through all that without delay, then." "Is that green blip that Kelex showed me coming from you?" I asked, staring intensely at Alexander. Alexander was wearing red-tinted sunglasses, so I couldn't tell how his eyes looked. But he said, "No. I used up what I had. You don't have to worry. Sit." I reluctantly sat next to him. Suddenly, he said, "Oh, yeah." He lifted his hand, like he was signaling someone. It turned out he was.

Suddenly, several people in the park, all men, revealed that they were carrying handguns under their clothes. "Those can't hurt me," I said confidently. "No, but they will distract you," said Alexander, "And that would allow the guy with the RPG in one of the nearby buildings to fire. And I would think that would hurt you. Maybe not kill you, but it would still leave a mark." I clenched my jaw for a second. I said, "Fine. What do you want?" "I'm glad we understand each other," said Alexander, "Anyway, cutting to the chase. You are officially a part of a special, all-expenses-paid experiment of mine." "Why are you telling me?" I asked. "Because it's not like you don't need to know," said Alexander, "And it'll help speed things along, at least a little. It took a little over eighteen years for Brainiac to meet you, after all. I wouldn't want to have to wait till you're in your mid-thirties for this to go down." I said, "All right. What's going to happen in this 'experiment'?" "A patient was horribly injured at Metropolis General and taken immediately afterwards," said Alexander, "Some hours later, he drove back to the hospital, looking just fine." "What does he have to do with this?" I asked. "I'll get to that," said Alexander, "Don't be so impatient." He cleared his throat, continuing, "Anyway, this news hasn't gotten out thanks to my best efforts. You won't see it on the news, ever." I stared at Alexander, pondering how powerful he really was.

Alexander continued, "Now, of course, I won't tell you who he is. That would make it far less interesting. And even looking in the hospital's list of patients won't do you any good." "So, then, how did he look so good when he went back to the hospital?" I asked. "I'm glad you posed that question," said Alexander. He pointed at himself, grinning widely. He continued, "I brought him to my warehouse of operations, and I...operated. He is now over sixty percent metal, and a little chunk of kryptonite keeps him going. Once he figures that out, he'll be mad. And that'll attract your attention, if I know you at all." I nodded grudgingly, saying, "Yeah, if he poses a threat, I'll have to go after him." "He'll pose a threat to you, maybe," said Alexander, "That chest of his can open up. Once he knows how to do that at will, you'll have a bad time." "What's the point of all this?" I said angrily, "Why do you care about this?" "It's interesting, that's why," said Alexander, leaning towards me, "You do realize the gravity of your living here, right? You are a living alien on Earth, passing off near-perfectly as human. That makes you really quite intriguing." "You think people are just objects to be experimented on and deemed 'intriguing', don't you?" I asked in an outraged tone. Alexander shrugged, saying, "Why not?" I gulped down my anger, staring fiercely at Alexander. He laughed lightly and smirked, turning away from me and looking out towards the city.

Alexander said, "We've gotten rather off track, haven't we, Clark?" I didn't respond. Alexander continued, "Anyway, he'll definitely pose a threat. It's how this has to happen. It wouldn't make sense any other way." "So, what're you going to be doing?" I asked. "The guy's going to be tearing through Metropolis when he finds out," answered Alexander, "I'm not going to be here when that happens. He'd recognize me and boom, no more Alexander. No, I'm going to go down south, in New Jersey. Again, I'm not going to give you any details. You'd find me then, and again boom, no more Alexander. Well..." He got up, finishing, "That's all for now. I guess I'll see you later." As he walked off, I said, "Wait." Alexander turned backed towards me. I asked, "You won't give me the guy's name. In that case, what should I call him?" Alexander thought for a second. He smiled suddenly, saying, "That's a great question. Call him Metallo." He turned and walked off. I let him go. "Metallo," I said to myself, looking at the ground in front of me. I looked back in the direction Alexander had gone off to. He was gone. I gulped again, this time out of a feeling of creepiness emerging. Alexander was an incredibly intimidating person, despite the fact that he was an inch shorter than me. Not being able to see his eyes made the feeling even worse.

Meanwhile, Alexander had avoided me seeing him before he left by quickly running to his left into the forest before I looked back in his direction. It wasn't anything fancy, but it worked. He walked through the park, eventually getting back to the city. He went to an obscure spot in the middle of it, getting in a Ferrari and driving off. He drove down to Gotham, parking in a random parking garage. He got out of the car, walking out of the garage and getting down to the streets. He walked on the sidewalk, and for whatever reason, everybody on either side of him stayed well out of his way. Eventually, he came across a dark alley, where a ragged, dirty, bald man stepped out, pulling a magnum on Alexander. He said, "Give me all your stuff." Alexander smirked. "No," said Alexander, quickly disarming the man. He grabbed the gun, pressing it to the man's back and making sure no one noticed. He made the man walk, saying, "Move in the direction I move. Don't deviate." The man did as he was told, quietly walking along. Eventually, he said, "Do you know anyone named..." He trailed off, seemingly afraid to ask the question. "Spit it out," said Alexander impatiently, "I don't have all day." The man asked him if he knew someone. The name he gave was unfamiliar. "Never heard of him," said Alexander. The man sighed, both with relief and disappointment. "It seems this guy's a big fixation of your concerns," said Alexander. The man nodded. Alexander smirked again, and he gradually stole a black hoodie, a pair of sunglasses, and a bandanna off several different chairs and tables filling the outdoor cafes in the area.

"Wow, it takes a lot to get noticed around here," said Alexander, putting on the hoodie and zipping it up. He put the hood on, pulling the drawstrings tight. He proceeded to put the sunglasses on. The man looked back at him, asking, "Why do you need those? I thought you already had sunglasses." "The ones I own are an expensive brand," said Alexander, "These are generic. I won't be recognized by these." The man seemed to be satisfied with this answer, and Alexander led him to the outside of a restaurant, putting on the bandanna. He walked straight in, past the front desk. He made the gun's presence known, firing a shot into the ceiling. All the patrons got low to the ground, and Alexander quickly dragged the man into the kitchen. Barging in, Alexander pointed his gun at the employees, saying, "Open up the meat freezer. Now!" One of the employees nervously rushed over, opening the freezer. Alexander shoved the man inside, saying, "Maybe this'll teach you a lesson." He turned to the employees, saying, "Don't call the police until he's been in there for twenty minutes. Otherwise...I have methods." He turned back to the man, saying, "What's your name, by the way?" The man, who was already feeling the effects of the freezer, said, "V-Victor Fries." He pronounced it like "freeze". "How delightfully coincidental," said Alexander, turning to the employee. He added, "Close it." He walked off.

He quickly got out of the restaurant, going to an alley with a fence. He threw the gun, hoodie, and sunglasses into a dumpster, jumping the fence. He straightened his tuxedo after landing on the other side, saying, "That was fun." He walked towards the nearest hotel, checking in. He went up to his room, turning on the TV and flipping to the news channel. "Now it's time to wait," he said to himself. After this was all over, he'd never think about Victor Fries again.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV

I was still perplexed, trying to figure out what I should do about this Metallo guy. I still didn't have a name, or anything, other than what little Alexander gave me. I walked back into work looking at the floor, and as I entered, the supervisor I'd talked to earlier said, "Hey, how'd that lead go?" I looked at him, saying, "He didn't feel like talking. I don't think it'll work out." "Ah, well, better luck next time," said the supervisor. "Yeah," I said quietly. I walked back over to my desk, looking over some drafts I'd made for a couple articles. The subject still bothered me, and I wanted to ask Kelex, but I knew there wasn't any way for me to go out for another "lead" and then return a few hours later with nothing. So I just continued to sit at my desk and work. When I got off that afternoon, Lois walked up to me, asking, "So, you want to go out again sometime?" "If I can," I said, sighing, "I have a lot of stuff to do. But I'll see if I can clear up my schedule enough." I showed her the drafts I'd been working on. "Well, at least you're trying," said Lois, "Bye, Clark." "See you, Lois," I said, waving goodbye. She walked off, waving back. Jimmy walked up to me, saying, "Love is in the air, isn't it?" "A little bit, yeah," I answered, smiling. I looked at him, saying, "I'm going to head to the Fortress. Something's been nagging at me." Jimmy nodded seriously, saying, "All right, good." I walked to the curb, hailing a taxi and getting back to the college. Once there, I dropped off my work stuff.

I flew out of my dorm, going full speed towards the Fortress. Once I reached it, I touched down and quickly headed through the door. Kelex immediately said, "What is it, Kal?" "Do we have any kind of facial recognition scanner?" I asked. "Of course," said Kelex, "The very best. Who are we talking about?" "Some guy who talked to me about the kryptonite we picked up on the radar," I said, "It looks like he has everything to do with it." "Okay, what does he look like?" asked Kelex. I gave him as good of a description as I could. Kelex ran my description through the facial recognition software in the Fortress. Eventually, Kelex said, "Nothing. There are literally no records connected to this face. Maybe you just forgot what he actually looked like." "No way," I said, "I'd remember a face like his." "If that really is the case, we have someone very powerful on our hands," said Kelex, "In a world where everything is recorded, he's successfully keeping his very existence secret. This is some bad news." I sighed, saying, "Thanks, Kelex. If I find anything else, I'll come back." I was about to walk out when Kelex said, "Wait. That reminds me." He rolled over to a panel in the wall, opening it. Inside, there were several other necklaces similar to the one that had created the Fortress. Kelex took one, closing the panel and rolling over to me. He extended his hand, revealing the necklace.

I asked, "What's this? It looks like my old necklace." "Exactly," said Kelex, "And actually, it was your old necklace that looked like these. These were standard modes of communication within clans on Krypton. Jor-El created your necklace to look like these so no one would suspect. With one of these, you won't have to come here all the time." "How does it work?" I asked, taking the necklace and putting it around my neck. "It syncs up to your DNA signal first, so it only responds to you," answered Kelex, "All you have to do to activate it is say, 'open communication'. It'll immediately connect you to me, and we'll be able to talk. You should be able to try it…now." I said, "Open communication." The necklace buzzed and glowed slightly. A second later, I said, "Is it working?" "Yes," said Kelex. I didn't just hear Kelex's response. It felt like his voice was in my head. It felt like my whole body vibrated for a second. "Whoa," I said. "Yeah," said Kelex, "It's pretty cool, right?" "I guess," I said, "It feels really weird, though." "Ah, you'll get used to it," Kelex said dismissively. "Let's hope you're right," I said, chuckling lightly, "Thanks, Kelex. By the way, can you generate a virtual photo of this guy?" "Yeah, sure," said Kelex, "I'll get it to you in a few minutes." A little later, I held in my hand a very detailed, very accurate virtual rendering of Alexander's face. "Thanks, Kelex," I said, "I'll see you later." "Hopefully not too soon," said Kelex seriously. I nodded, walking out.

When I reached my dorm room, Jimmy was working on the pre-assignments for our classes. He was editing a few photos for his photography class, and there were a couple printed essays for his other ones. I still had quite a bit of work to do. Jimmy saw me, saying, "Oh, hey. How'd it go?" "Good," I said. Jimmy looked at my necklace, saying, "I thought that was at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean." "Apparently, Kelex has spares," I said cheerily. I explained the purpose of the necklace, and Jimmy nodded. "Well, I'll try my best to be out of your way," I said, "I have some stuff to do, myself." "Don't worry too much about it," said Jimmy, "I'm almost finished here." "Sounds good," I said, walking over to my laptop. I picked it up, turning it on and sitting on my bed. I went online and checked the syllabus for the classes I had. A lot of it was reading at that point, so I decided I should just get started. The book was available online, so I pulled it up, putting in my headphones and listening to some good classical music. Unbeknownst to me, Alexander was resting comfortably in a hotel in Gotham, New Jersey, watching me through my own laptop video feed. He smirked, saying, "Ah, the woes of college. Good choice of music, though." Suddenly, the door was thrown open, and several men in suits walked through.

"Hi, Stryker," said Alexander, standing up. Alfred Stryker, a prominent mobster in Gotham, pointed at Alexander and said angrily, "You stiffed me! I was promised big bucks for state-of-the-art guns, and I get shortchanged! Did you really think I wouldn't get to you? Or more importantly, how are you stupid enough to come back to Gotham?" "That's just it, Al," said Alexander, "I wasn't stupid. I was smart." He stepped to the side, and suddenly, a window partially shattered. A puff of red issued from the back of Stryker's neck, and he fell face-first onto the carpet. Alexander grimaced, saying, "Now I'm going to have to move. If housekeeping finds this, I'm going to have a bad time." The three henchmen who'd walked in with Stryker, though still shocked, drew their guns, aiming them at Alexander's face. "You really want to do that?" asked Alexander slyly, "That guy's got more than one bullet. Or maybe there's even more than one sniper." One of the henchmen gulped, and another said, "There's no way they'd kill us all in time!" "You really want to test that?" asked Alexander. The henchmen stared at him. One said, "I'm tipping out of here." He holstered his gun and ran out. The other two swiftly followed his lead, running out of the hotel. Alexander smirked, looking at Stryker's dead body.

Alexander dialed the number of the disposable phone he'd given the sniper. The sniper picked up, and Alexander said, "You'll have your money soon. Make sure you get rid of any burn marks, gunpowder, and dispose of the shell safely. Use what I gave you." The sniper said, "Okay. By the way, how'd you know that whole thing would work? After all, I really am the only sniper." "I didn't," said Alexander, "That's why it was fun. Now get to it." "And you're not really gypping me, right?" asked the sniper, "I'll have my money?" "Oh, yeah," said Alexander, "I've never let my men down. You can do whatever you want with it. Heck, you can even spend it in one place! Just finish the job." He hung up, staring again at Stryker. He stepped backwards a few inches, making sure not to get Stryker's blood on his shoes. Alexander sighed and said, "Well, at least this isn't the only good hotel here." He walked out, leaving Stryker face-down on the floor. As he passed the front desk, he handed a large sum of money to the concierge, saying, "Give this to the cleaning staff. I'm afraid I just made their job a little harder." The concierge gingerly took the money, and Alexander smiled at him, turning and walking out of the hotel. He hailed a taxi and left in no hurry.

Meanwhile, John Corben had appeared to make a miraculous recovery from his injuries, and even more fortunate, his cancer had not returned. As he was about to leave, his doctor entered, saying, "It's pretty extraordinary, how you recovered." John thought about revealing what happened in full, but he doubted that his doctor would believe him. And so, he simply responded, "It sure is. It's strange." "But it's good," said his doctor, "You're very fortunate." "I'd like to think so," said John, "But it still seems a little off that I'm fine." "Don't pay attention to those feelings, John," said his doctor, putting his hand on John's shoulder, "I'd just be glad this turned out so well for y…" The doctor trailed off. "What is it?" asked John, nervous. "Your shoulder," said the doctor, "It's uncommonly…firm." John felt his shoulder and moved his arm around. He shrugged, saying, "Doesn't feel any different to me." The doctor shrugged too, saying, "Ah, I must've been imagining it. Well, anyway, just focus on this: you're alive, and you're fine. Keep thinking that, and life will feel like a breeze." John nodded, saying, "Thanks, doc. I'll see you around." "I certainly hope not," joked the doctor. John laughed lightly, grabbing his stuff and exiting the hospital with a smile on his face. He walked to his apartment building, going inside and going to his apartment.

John set his things down in his room, going into his kitchen and grabbing a water bottle from his fridge. He sat down on his couch, grabbing his TV remote. He turned on his TV, saying, "Let's see here, what's on…?" He stopped suddenly, furrowing his brow. He muted his TV, setting the remote and bottle aside and standing up. He heard a strange tapping coming from a distant part of his apartment. He grabbed the baseball bat that rested on his front doorframe, saying loudly, "Anyone there? Look, if this is some kind of prank, you'd better give yourself up now! I don't take kindly to this kind of thing!" The tapping continued, and John gulped nervously. The tapping didn't sound…right. Even being a soldier didn't help his composure, the unnerving sound continuing. "What is that?" he whispered to himself. He sighed to calm himself, continuing, "Hey, it's your choice! I'm coming your way, and I'm not happy!" The tapping didn't stop. It continued in its monotonous pattern, frightening John. He walked towards the sound with as much caution as possible. He got closer to it, the sound becoming louder with each step he took. He found that the sound was coming from behind his closed bathroom door. He steeled himself, throwing open the bathroom door…only to find that the sound came from his faucet, which was leaking slightly.

In Alexander's new hotel room, Alexander clapped once, saying, "Yes! Augmented hearing works! I'll just fiddle with this, then…" He clacked on the keyboard of the laptop he was using to observe John. "You're doing great, Metallo," said Alexander, grinning, "You're doing real well." He clacked the last key required to turn down John's hearing, chuckling lightly. He was that much closer to knowing that Metallo was ready for his inevitable fight.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER V

The following day, I walked into the Daily Planet, met by Lois at the entrance. "Did you hear what happened?" she asked me. I shook my head, confused. Lois grabbed my wrist and quickly lead me deeper inside the building. We went to her desk, where Jimmy was waiting. Lois opened her laptop, Googling something. She played the video that came up, saying, "Check this out." It was a news broadcast detailing the murder of a local mobster. His blood was used to write on the wall, "ABYSINNIA, SUPERMAN!" "What?" I said, "Abysinnia?" "It's a British term," said Lois, "It's a purposely mispronounced version of 'I'll be seeing you'." "What's this guy want with m…Superman?" I asked. "No idea," said Lois, shaking her head, "All I do know is, this guy's no joke. He didn't use a gun, or anything, to kill this guy. It was as if he burned a perfect hole in his midsection." "How could you do that?" I asked, incredulous. "Not with any weapon I know of," answered Lois, "Superman's got his plate full, if you ask me." "Seems like it," I said nervously. Jimmy said, "I think he'll be okay." He gave me a reassuring look. I sighed heavily, saying, "Well, I got some work to do. I'll see you later, Lois." "You, too, Clark," said Lois. Jimmy followed me to my desk, asking in a whisper, "What do you think about this guy?" "I'd be able to answer that question better if I knew who he was," I responded worriedly. I sat down at my desk, beginning to work with the mystery man on my mind.

Meanwhile, in a vacated apartment, a British man in his mid-twenties was blasting early Bring Me the Horizon through the headphones resting over his purple hair. He was resting, trying to recover from the massive amount of energy he'd drained while killing the mobster. He leaned back, blowing out a long puff of smoke from his lit cigarette. He wore black leather pants and black shoes along with a black leather jacket and a Union Jack T-shirt. He suddenly got a call on his phone. "Vera, sis," he said, answering, "What is it?" "I saw the news!" the young British woman shouted, "You can't just issue some bloody challenge to a hard man like Superman!" "Don't worry your pretty little head, Vera!" said the man, "I'll be okay." "Bollocks!" said Vera, "You most certainly won't be. You might've thought we made it big back in London, but this is different!" "Of course," said the man, "But Vera, I've been practicing." "Fine," said Vera, "But if you bite it, I get your stuff." The man said, "Obviously." "Bye, Manchester," said Vera. "Bye, Vera," said Manchester. Manchester hung up, walking out of the apartment. He looked towards the security camera mounted on the far end of the hall. He pointed towards it with a finger gun. "Pew," he said quietly. The camera's lens broke.

The incident in the apartment building's hallway quickly made it onto the news, and that afternoon, I saw it on TV. The British government had released info on who it was. His name was Manchester Black, a guy who had killed criminals in Britain. Reportedly, he despised the fact that the police's primary method of crime fighting was apprehending the criminals instead of taking them out of action for good. He figured killing them was the only surefire crime prevention method. With this in mind, he created a team of criminal killers called the Elite. They consisted of him as leader, his sister Vera, and three others called Coldcast, Menagerie, and Hat. Eventually, however, Menagerie was nearly killed and put in a coma after a bullet practically lobotomized her. Hat, Coldcast, and Vera all decided they'd rather have a quiet life after seeing the potential cost. While Manchester disapproved, he understood their decision and let them go peacefully. He, however, couldn't stay in Britain, and so he moved to the U.S. He continued his work here. The British government had also said that Manchester had killed the mobster in order to come after me. They theorized that he considered me worse than the police, as I had far more power than they, yet didn't use it as he would like. He considered me weak. Finally, they revealed his abilities. He was able to access the locked apartment without damaging the door through telekinetic abilities. They were still lost on how he managed to kill the mobster, because they hadn't seen him ever exhibit abilities that would cause a perfect hole in someone's body. Something was off, according to them. He also possessed the abilities of minor mind control and telepathy, even worse. He was formidable, I could tell easily.

I called Jimmy when I saw the news, telling him, "This is bigger than we thought. This guy's no joke." I explained everything. "Great, just great," said Jimmy. I said, "Open communication." My necklace activated, and I asked Kelex, "Do you have any way to look at satellite footage?" Kelex answered, "Of course. I can do it easily." "How fast can you sift through all the areas of Metropolis?" I asked. "I can do it…this fast," he said, "Who are you looking for? I can release a program which will identify them out of all the footage." "Manchester Black," I responded. "All right," said Kelex. He searched up Manchester on a database, plugging his visage into the program. Within seconds, Kelex had a specific location. "I'll be right there," I said, "Close communication." The line cut off, and I said to Jimmy, "I'm going to be facing off against Manchester." "Whoa, this is a little fast, man," said Jimmy, "Don't just throw yourself in." "I don't want this guy coming to me," I said. "Fine," said Jimmy begrudgingly, "Just be careful." I said, "Always, Jimmy," and hung up, putting on the Superman costume and flying out of my dorm room. I said, "Open communication. Kelex, where am I in relation to Manchester's location?" Kelex quickly gave me directions. I followed them to a crowded street. "I can't deal with a crowd," I said, "I need to know exactly where he is." "Let me go back to the satellites," said Kelex, "…Look down and a little to your left." I did, seeing Manchester's purple hair stick out from the river of people.

I quickly zoomed down, snatching Manchester's collar and lifting him in the air. "This was a bit sooner than I'd hoped," grumbled Manchester. I flew onto a rooftop, tossing Manchester ten feet away from me. "I didn't think you'd be able to find me so fast," said Manchester, groaning and standing up, "It's a real kick in the head." "I don't know if you'd want to use that expression after I'm finished," I said. Manchester stared at me for a second. I suddenly felt uncomfortable. The feeling passed, and Manchester said, "Huh. You've got a robot helping you? Cool…wait a minute. I'm like ten years older than you! That's different!" He took out a cigarette, lighting it and sticking it in his mouth. He inhaled slowly and breathed out a long puff of smoke. "Honestly, I didn't want to see you that soon at all," he said, "I was looking for someone. I figured, once I found him, we'd go after you together. Apparently, it's not happening that way." "Who were you looking for?" I asked, angry and unnerved at how easily he'd accessed my mind. "Oh, just because I got info out of you doesn't mean you're going to get it out of me so easily," he responded, smiling, "But it has been nice seeing you." He turned and started walking to the edge of the roof. I rushed over in a fraction of a second, turning him around forcefully and getting up in his face. "You're not going anywhere until I say you can," I said. Suddenly, a strange pain erupted in the back of my head. I released Manchester, stumbling backwards. "It's a doozy, isn't it?" said Manchester, "That's me, squeezing a blood vessel in your brain stem. I compress it a little more, you'll have a bad time. Cheerio." He tipped backwards off the roof.

I was still in pain for a few more minutes. Eventually, it let up. I walked over to the edge of the roof, looking downwards. Manchester had apparently arranged a bunch of trash into the message, "DON'T TRY FINDING ME AGAIN". I sighed, saying weakly, "Open communication." Kelex said, "I know. Your necklace sent me an alert. You almost had a brain stem stroke. We need to get you something new." I flew to the Fortress. Eventually, I arrived, and when I walked in, I said, "Close communication." I walked over to Kelex, asking, "What'd you have in mind?" Kelex rolled over to another area of the Fortress, and a part of the wall opened up. "How many gadgets are in this place?" I asked. "I'm not entirely sure, myself," answered Kelex, "But there's a lot. Anyway, check this out." He gestured towards the devices. They were like blue ski masks. At least, that's what they looked like. "What do these do?" I asked, lowering my hood and mask. Kelex said, "Remove those." I did so, dropping my hood and mask to the floor. Kelex said, "These are made out of the same material as your costume. However, it's far more resilient. These are layered enough that you'll be protected from Manchester's telepathic powers. I didn't think he'd be this precise. Anyway, there is a drawback. They can get incredibly uncomfortable, especially in temperature. Don't fight too long wearing one." "Got it," I said, taking one. I walked out, flying back to the college.

As I flew, in Gotham, Alexander had heard the news as well. He called Luthor, saying, "Luthor, there's been a complication." "If by 'complication' you mean this Manchester Black guy, then I don't know what you're saying," said Luthor. Alexander said, "Look, I know a lot of things. And some of those things pertain to Manchester Black. He's extremely powerful. You know how he avoids detection? He literally manipulates those around him. They don't see him because he doesn't want them to. He's that good. You heard about the Elite, right?" "Yes," responded Luthor, "Why does it matter?" "Because Manchester would identify with Metallo," answered Alexander, "They both went to forbidden lengths to take down their enemies. And both of them were basically cast to the wolves for it. With the way Manchester gets around, he probably heard about Metallo, and he's probably heading his way now." "So, what'll happen?" asked Luthor. "Manchester will probably end up spilling what really happened to Metallo," answered Alexander, "He'll easily convince him to go up against Superman." "So?" questioned Luthor, "Isn't that what you wanted?" Alexander sighed, "No, not this way. Manchester's a repeated explosion. He tends to more big-scale violence as compared to Metallo. If Manchester gets involved, it'll be much, much worse. You and I both work with people in Metropolis. Manchester'll take them all out if given the chance." "Understood," said Luthor, "We'll take more precautions." "You'd better," said Alexander. He hung up, fuming.

At John Corben's apartment, John had loaded his handgun in case Manchester Black tried to attack him. He had it by his side continually. "You're not going to get to me," he said to no one in particular. Suddenly, his apartment window flew open, and a cigarette jettisoned through the opening and onto the carpet. John looked towards the window, seeing Manchester Black. Manchester said, "Hi, John. Don't try shooting. I've already jammed your gun. I just want to have a civil conversation." Manchester smiled creepily, and John gulped nervously.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI

Manchester had taken the liberty of using his telepathic abilities to open John's fridge and help himself to a beer. He drank the last of the bottle when he finished talking to John, throwing the bottle out the window. He smiled, saying, "It's all quite interesting, isn't it?" John clenched his jaw. He'd been silent while Manchester was talking. He answered, "I don't believe it." "Well, believe it, mate," said Manchester. John said suspiciously, "And just how did you find all this out?" "Carefully," responded Manchester, "I'd been keeping my eye on you. I pick up on things all the time. It's part of my telepathy. I found a few bits and pieces about you. Probably walked past a nurse, or something. Like I do, I made myself invisible to everyone else and got into the hospital. You never realized it, but I watched you for quite some time. It was a bit more difficult to hide myself from you, but I managed. I found it quite interesting, how there was such a large blast in your room, and somehow, you come back looking dandy. You don't think that's out of the ordinary either?" "Well, sure it is," said John, "But the guys who worked on me were just that good." "No one's that good," retorted Manchester, "Not at restoring natural tissue, anyway. Back to the point, the reason I had difficulty was only partly because of your intense military training. When I was sending in the first telepathic waves to access your awareness, more of them bounced off. I had to adjust the wavelength." John was afraid to ask, but the question in his head was far too nagging.

He asked nervously, "What was it that stopped the waves?" "Metal," answered Manchester, "More specifically, steel." John ran his hands through his hair. He felt it. "But I can feel…" he began. Manchester interrupted, "Artificial nerves installed in the steel cranium, attached to the brain. It shouldn't feel the same as regular feeling. It doesn't, does it?" John hung his head. Manchester nodded, continuing, "He probably didn't figure out how to stick them everywhere. You've noticed." John said, "How'd you…of course. Telepathy." Manchester raised his eyebrows and smirked in confirmation. John sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He lowered his hands, looking at his palms. "Yeah," he said, "I've noticed. Almost everything's been feeling off. I just told myself the surgery was having some unexpected consequences." "They were expected, believe me," said Manchester. "Well, what could this guy have gained by doing this to me?" asked John, distressed. Manchester leaned back, answering, "He wants you to act up. He figured you'd find out by yourself, freak out, and go on a rampage, thereby attracting Superman's attention. He wanted you to do his dirty work while he went off and hung about somewhere else." "Well, what happens now, then, that you've told me?" asked John. Manchester sat up, and his expression turned serious.

"What happens now is that you help me," responded Manchester, "With everything you have now, you can take on anyone you want." John stared at him. Manchester sighed, inquiring, "You were nearly put in jail because you were a little too rough with some war criminals, right?" John reluctantly nodded. Manchester elaborated, "They can't stop you now. Not with the power you've been given. At least, it'll be a lot harder. You can square away any scum of the earth you want!" "And what would you be doing, while I went out there and risked my life?" asked John. Manchester answered, "I'd be right there, doing this." He turned to John's TV and snapped his fingers. Green sparks erupted and danced across his fingertips. He stretched out his fist and opened it quickly. A green bolt of energy quickly traveled to the TV, making the screen crack violently. "There's a lot more where that came from, too," said Manchester, "But then, we don't want a mess, do we?" John stared in awe. He eventually looked up at Manchester, saying, "I want to see you in action first. Then maybe I'll go along with you." "Fair enough," acknowledged Manchester, "I'll let you stand right there. I already have someone in mind." "Who?" asked John. "Alex Evell," answered Manchester, "You've probably heard of him." "Yeah, he bought the Morning Pictorial a while back," said John. "Uh-huh," said Manchester, "And not only is he a prolific businessman, he is also a politician. And he's worse than a lot of the others out there. You should see what he does to get his way." "I'd rather not," said John. "All right," said Manchester, "Then in that case, try to keep up." He jumped away from the window. John jumped up from his couch, watching Manchester speed off.

John went to his door, opening it and stepping outside. Manchester was going faster than any normal person. John asked himself, "How am I supposed to keep up?" Suddenly, the thought was planted in his head, "Run." John stepped out a little further, keeping his eyes on Manchester. He began running. At first, he wasn't going that fast. But then, something felt different. He began picking up speed after a few seconds. Eventually, he was going so fast that his shirt was whipping in the wind, and his hair was lifted off his forehead. His eyes seemed to work overtime, making sure he didn't run into anything. He soon caught up to Manchester, who was still running at top speed. He looked down at Manchester's shoes. They were partially encased in green energy. "Telepathic abilities are useful for a variety of things," noted Manchester with a smile, "And lot of those things are fun." "Where are we?" asked John. Manchester answered, "We're close to Evell's house, that's where we are." A minute later, they arrived about twenty yards away from Evell's front gate. There were several guards right there. Manchester said, "Don't worry about them. They can't see or hear us. Here's your chance to see me in action." John stayed where he was as Manchester walked towards the guards.

Suddenly, Manchester disappeared from John's vision. One of the guards happened to look John's way. He jumped slightly, hastily drawing his handgun and beginning, "Hey, where the…" The guard was sent flying into a nearby car windshield. The other one at the very front of the gate seemed to have been struck by a monstrous uppercut, flying seven feet straight up in the air and landing hard. He was thoroughly unconscious, and he was slowly lifted up to an ID scanner. His ID was taken out of his pocket by an invisible hand. The ID was scanned, and the gate opened. All the other guards were on high alert, aiming towards the gate. One looked towards John and shot at him. The bullet landed square in his chest, but John wasn't moved. He heard Manchester say in his head, "Just a little bit more proof." The guard who'd shot John fell unconscious. The other guards were thrown in all directions, landing in shrubs, garden rows, and the house's pool. The front doors of the house and all the windows shattered. There were many other guards inside, along with a butler and a couple maids. The butler and maids simply dropped unconscious and were gently lifted through the window, set down on the lawn. "They're not the ones trying to kill me," said Manchester in John's mind. Meanwhile, guards were chucked by an unseen force through the windows. They went every which way. All valuable possessions in the halls were quickly smashed. It already looked like a war zone. One of the guards was thrown out a second story window, landing squarely on his spine.

"Ah," said Manchester, "That happens sometimes." A few minutes later, Manchester said, "I'm just outside his personal office. Take a look. It's a bit like a first-person-shooter, isn't it?" John's mind was invaded by mental images of the double doors leading to the office. Two guards with guns aimed were standing outside. John could see Manchester now. Well, his hands as least. The guards still couldn't. Manchester clapped softly, and the guards slammed into each other, landing on the floor in a heap. He kicked open the door with some assistance from his powers. A rippling, thin wave of energy went over Manchester, evidently meaning that he'd revealed himself. Evell had a handgun, and he aimed it at Manchester's head as soon as he saw him. He was about to shoot when Manchester snapped his fingers and sent a thin energy bolt at Evell. It pierced the front of Evell's head, going out the back and through the far wall. There was no blood. The bolt had cauterized the wound just as quickly as it had created it. "Job's done," said Manchester, "No doubt the police are here already. I'll let you go. Hide somewhere." Even when he was talking through telepathy, Manchester's voice sounded ragged. "Are you okay?" asked John. Manchester answered, "This can get…taxing. I'll be okay with a little bit of rest. I should be able to manage avoiding the five-o." John's mind was released from Manchester's perspective, and he saw police cars quickly arriving.

John quickly ducked into a back alley, getting behind a dumpster. Meanwhile, Manchester steeled his frayed nerves, grimacing as he exerted the power necessary to hide himself. It was just about all he had left. He stumbled through the house, struggling to stay upright. Eventually, he managed to get outside, walking right past the police. When he determined that he was a safe distance away, he dropped the disguise and telepathically linked to John for half a second. "There…you are," said Manchester, feeling dehydrated and generally spent. He went into the alley where John was, collapsing next to him. He extracted a Clif bar from his pocket, opening it hastily and chomping down on it. He breathed heavily, taking a small Gatorade bottle out of his other pocket. He spun the top off, gulping down half the bottle. John waited to speak to him. Very quickly, Manchester downed the bar and the Gatorade, turning to John and saying, "That was your…chance. Now, as you've seen, there's…a few downsides. But…aside from that…what do you think? You in?" John answered, "You're a bit of a psycho, you're more than a little sketchy, and you take way too many risks. But I guess that's what you need." He extended his hand. Manchester snickered, saying, "I guess that means…yes." He shook John's hand, smiling eerily. He leaned back against the brick wall of the alley, sighing contentedly.

The following day, I went into work, and Manchester was yet again plastered all over the news. Mr. White called me into his office that day, along with Jimmy and Lois. "All right, dream team," said Mr. White to the three of us, "You're in charge of the next Manchester write-up." "Really?" asked Jimmy, more scared than excited. "Yes, really," answered Mr. White, "You've shown yourselves to be capable. Get it done as soon as possible. There's no real hurry this time, what with the Morning Pictorial being all out of whack with their owner dead. And I know you all have school." "I don't have that much homework this week," I said, "I can get started immediately." "So can I," said Lois. Jimmy, in spite of himself, echoed Lois' words. "Get on it, then," said Mr. White, nodding approvingly. The three of us walked out of his office, on the way to Evell's house.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER VII

When we arrived, I walked up to the supervising officer, asking, "So, what went down?" "I'm not sure I believe it, myself," answered the officer, "You'd have to ask some of the witnesses. It's pretty crazy. I wouldn't buy into it if I were you." _Thank goodness I'm not you,_ I thought. I looked over to the front of the house, seeing several shattered windows. "Are you sure you're not going to buy into it?" I asked the officer, "It looks like something unbelievable actually happened." The officer responded, "Sure, it looks a little weird. But obviously our guy just threw the guards out the windows." "So, were there any casualties?" I asked. "Aside from a guard who broke his neck and Evell himself, no," answered the officer. "All right, thanks," I said, "Do you mind if I go on to the house?" The officer gestured with his head, answering, "Go on." I stepped under all the yellow tape and put on latex gloves. I took out my camera, walking through what was left of the doorway. The doors themselves looked like they'd had wall charges attached to them. "That's odd," I said to myself. The doors were blown outwards, not inwards. If they really had been blown up from the outside, then they would've gone inwards. "So either someone inside the house was helping our perps…" I trailed off. I looked at the bits of wood carefully. Several of them were unnaturally warped, as if the doors bulged before they exploded. I snapped a photo, finishing, "Or this is Manchester's work." I walked deeper into the house.

I walked carefully through the debris, little shards of porcelain crunching under my feet and random bits of fluff from furniture floating out of the way. I picked up a larger shard from a destroyed vase, noticing strange bubbles had formed. I crushed the shard in my hand. The bubbles erupted into clouds of boiling steam. My inhuman skin protected me just fine, but a normal person would've suffered terrible burns. "So, you used heat, eh, Manchester?" I said to myself, "You're more varied than I thought." I quickly went through the rest of the house, taking pictures every now and again. Eventually, I reached Evell's home office. The lock on the double doors was twisted, seemingly by intense heat. I walked in, looking around. The office was different from the rest of the house. No furniture was ripped apart, and none of the decorative pieces inside were destroyed either. "Why'd you stop being so extravagant, Manchester?" I asked no one in particular. The biggest thing was where Evell died. The huge chair behind the desk had a perfect hole. It was angled downwards. There was another hole in the wall, angled at the same degree. I stood at the spot where the holes all lined up, pointing my finger in the direction the bolt had gone. "No intimidation act, no random destruction," I said to myself, "What changed?...Open communication." The necklace buzzed to life.

Kelex asked, "What do you got for me?" I asked in return, "Kelex, what do you know about telepathy?" "I know it's rare in humans," answered Kelex, "Although, there are some species of alien that consider it commonplace. Is that what you're dealing with?" I responded, "No. It's Manchester." "All right, what do you need to know?" asked Kelex. I answered, "I need to know why he changed his behavior at the last second. This place he broke into…it's in shambles, except in the room where he killed the owner. In here, it's perfect aside from the doors, windows, and a small hole in the wall and office chair." "What's he usually like, your killer?" asked Kelex. I recounted, "He's a blowout kind of guy. The last guy he killed had a big hole in his midsection. But this time, his victim just had a small hole in his head. Death would've been almost instantaneous. The last guy probably suffered for a few minutes." "How much more did he do beforehand?" asked Kelex. I told him everything else that happened before he killed Evell. "Okay, I think I got it," said Kelex happily, "He tired out. Telepathy can do a number on a human user. If he really did all that stuff in the span of just a few minutes, then he'd have to recover. That'd require rest and a lot of carbs and electrolytes, as well as any kind of relaxed mental stimulation, like Sudoku or a crossword puzzle." "All right, thanks, Kelex," said, "Close communication." I walked out of the house, going towards Lois and Jimmy.

Lois was talking to one of the guards who'd been just outside the front gate. He was describing how he was hit by an invisible force and sent into the air, after which he blacked out and broke his nose on the pavement. "And you said you drew your gun?" Lois asked, "What at?" "Well, I didn't want to mention this," said the guard, "It makes it seem more impossible, but…it was this random guy. He just appeared, right in the middle of the street. I panicked and drew my gun, and…you know the rest." Lois was obviously apprehensive about believing the guard, but she said, "I bet there's a sketch artist around here somewhere." She turned and called for a sketch artist. An officer walked up, asking, "What's the deal?" Lois answered, "This guard has a description to give you." The sketch artist nodded, standing in front of the guard and drawing details as he gave them. Lois walked over to me, saying, "This is all so hard to believe." "Yeah, but from the looks of the house, they're all telling the truth," I responded grimly. "You think it was this Manchester guy?" asked Lois. "I'd say so," I said, nodding. "Superman's sure got his hands full with this one," said Lois. I laughed lightly, turning away and saying quietly to myself, "Don't I know it." I walked over to Jimmy, asking him, "You think you got enough material for the article?" "Yeah, I got plenty," answered, "In a scene like this, a photographer's got an easy job. Why'd you bring your camera?" "Wanted to get a better look at Manchester's ability," I responded. "I get it," said Jimmy, "Well, our work here is done." I nodded, and after Lois finished her interviews, we left for the Daily Planet building.

I immediately sat down at my desk and began writing, based only on what I'd seen. I'd integrate Jimmy's photos and Lois' interviews after I finished the rough draft. The whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about how much of a threat Manchester was. Lois was most certainly right when she said I had my hands full. And then, there was the problem of the other guy. Manchester had been all over the news leading up to the Evell incident. If it was him that the guard saw, he'd recognize him for sure. But it was someone completely unfamiliar. That didn't bode well. I stopped typing when a thought hit me hard. "That green blip," I said. I gulped in the wake of the theory that whoever was that green blip was now in league with Manchester. "Great," I growled under my breath. I whispered, "Open communication." Kelex said, "Hello?" "I think Manchester's found that green blip, whoever he is," I said, "Try and find it." Kelex said, "Okay…um…oh. That's…not good." "What isn't?" I asked frantically, having a mini panic attack. "I can't find the green blip," said Kelex, "Manchester must be blocking it. He's way better than I thought." "Yeah, it looks like he can do a lot of other things, too," I said, "Is there a way I can send you photos from my camera?" Kelex responded, "No need. I can just pull them from here. Just got to get your location…and…" My camera's screen went spastic for a couple seconds, and went back to normal just as quickly. "Wow," said Kelex, "Telepathic heat generation, psychic bolts of varying size, tearing telekinesis…and add those onto his telepathic communication, shielding, and evasion, this guy's a real heavy hitter." I sighed, saying, "I thought as much. Thanks, Kelex. Close communication." I held my face in my hands for a couple seconds, deep in thought. I was more than distressed. I was scared.

Lois suddenly walked up to me, putting her hand on my shoulder and observing, "You don't look too good. This whole Manchester thing bothering you?" Taken by surprise, I managed to force out, "I, um…y-yeah, somewhat." "Ah, don't worry," said Lois, "It's not you he wants, anyway. Superman's the only one who has to worry, really." I screamed internally at her statement. However, I responded calmly, "Yeah. I'll be fine. You're right." Lois raised her eyebrow, saying, "I think you need a little more reinforcement. How about after work you and Jimmy have dinner with me as friends?" "Uh…that'd be nice, Lois," I said, "It really would be. I'll try to make it." "That's great," said Lois jovially, "Remember to bring Jimmy. Drag him if you have to." "I doubt it'll take that much," I said, "He loves going out." "Then I expect to see you two," said Lois, smiling and walking off. Lois walked over to Jimmy, saying, "Whatever it takes, get him to go out tonight." Jimmy was slightly confused, but he nodded, and Lois thanked him, going back to her desk. I sighed again, worrying about Manchester and whoever he had with him. It was times like these when I didn't want my powers. _But I have them for a reason,_ I thought somberly, _So I have to use them._ I groaned at my agonizingly paradoxical feelings, trying to stay focused on the job at hand while also thinking about that night.

When evening finally rolled around, Jimmy and I went to the restaurant, finding that Lois was already there. We went into the front, saying, "Lois. We made it." Lois looked up at us, grinning widely and saying excitedly, "Oh, yes! Thanks for coming. I was starting to think you didn't like me." "Oh, we like you plenty," said Jimmy. He pointed at me, finishing, "But he likes you more. Way more. You should be seeing where I'm going with this." "Yes, we get it," I said, slightly irritated. Lois giggled, saying, "Our table's ready over there. Come on." She lead the way into the restaurant, and eventually, we stopped and sat down. "I've been coming to this place for years now," said Lois, "It's amazing. You should definitely try their pasta." "Will do," I said, smiling. "I took the liberty of ordering water for all of us," said Lois, "That okay?" "Yeah, it's fine," I said. Jimmy looked over his menu, saying, "I think I've decided." "So have I," I said. "Same here," said Lois. We all set down our menus, and when the waitress came around, we ordered. Afterwards, while we were waiting for our food, Lois began asking us questions. The first thing she asked was, "What kind of music do you guys like?" "Classical," I fired off. Jimmy quickly answered, "Really classic rock. You know, the Beatles, Rolling Stones, that kind of thing." Lois nodded. Of course she knew that we'd ask the same thing.

"What about you?" I asked. "I'm a country kind of girl," she said. "Really?" I said, raising my eyebrows, "Never pegged you for country. I thought maybe rock, or something." "Nah," said Lois, "Give me Tim McGraw any day." "You know, this is kind of fun," said Jimmy, "Let's keep going. What's your favorite movie? Mine's Inception." "That's mine too!" said Lois, "That's such a cool movie!" "My favorite is Dawn of the Planet of the Apes," I said. "I figured you'd like the sci-fi stuff," said Lois. "You're good at reading people," I said. Lois said, "If you say so. Better not be hiding any double lives!" Even though she was joking, I laughed awkwardly. But even so, I was starting to like her more and more and more. And it was good.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII

Bruno Mannheim was one of the biggest players in Metropolis. He was practically at the top, with a family of organized crime that could be rivaled by only a few. Not only was his "business" a terrifying reality, but the man himself was of impressive stature. He was six-and-a-half feet tall, with a barrel-shaped midsection and long, thick arms. Sometimes, instead of sending out one of his men, he'd take out targets himself. The scenes he left behind were never pretty. But he was about to meet his match. Manchester Black and his new companion John Corben stood outside a bar where Mannheim was having a few drinks. Manchester looked towards John, saying, "Moment of truth." "Why aren't you going in with me?" John asked Manchester nervously. Manchester scoffed and replied, "You don't need my help. Mannheim might be a big guy, but you're practically indestructible." "Well, what am I supposed to do?" asked John, "Just walk up and slug him?" "Of course not," Manchester chastised him, "Be a little theatric. It never hurts." John sighed, walking to the entrance. He turned around. Manchester had already disappeared from view. He heard his voice in his head, urging him, "Don't just stand there gawking. You know I can't be seen. Just go in." John reluctantly entered. Mannheim was drinking while two women talked with him. John didn't want to open his mouth, but another one of Manchester's psychic communications hit him. John whispered, "You sure?" "Just say it," snapped Manchester. John sighed again, doing as he was told.

Mannheim looked up, turning towards John and saying, "Now, even I don't say things like that in front of ladies." "How'd you even come up with that?" whispered John. Manchester replied, "British wit." Mannheim challenged, "Who're you talking to?" "No one," John quickly responded. "Must be crazy," mused Mannheim, "Especially since you made such a rude comment regarding my genitals." He cracked his knuckles and neck, continuing, "I don't take kindly to things like that." He said to the two women behind him, "You'd better wait in our car. I'll take care of this guy." The women walked off, giving John the middle finger as they passed. Mannheim walked closer to John. "Not going to take the first punch?" asked Mannheim, raising an eyebrow, "Okay. I can respect deference." He threw a punch to John's midsection. John recoiled, but he barely felt the blow. Mannheim clutched his hand, saying, "Gah! You must do some pretty intense core workouts. Or you're just wearing body armor." John raised the hem of his shirt to reveal his bare stomach. "Neither," he said sinisterly. He dropped his shirt, punching Mannheim in his stomach. Mannheim backed up about ten feet, spitting blood. John easily made him keel over, stamping on his lower leg and breaking it severely. Manchester said to John, "Finish him off." John stared a Mannheim. "N-no," John said slowly. John's head suddenly felt like it was on fire. Manchester was obviously angry.

It passed after a few seconds, and Manchester said, "Fine. Why?" "I don't want to take someone else's life," John replied, "I've done it too many times already." "Understandable," said Manchester. Suddenly, a green bolt of energy rushed straight through Mannheim's heart. Just like all the times before, there was no blood. Mannheim's shock was displayed in his dying eyes. He moved no more. Manchester materialized beside John. "Why'd you…?" John began asking. "You said you wouldn't kill him," Manchester interrupted, "I never said _I wouldn't_. Come on." Manchester turned and walked out of the bar. John slowly followed, trying not to think about Mannheim. The two women were still waiting out in their car. John was shielded from their vision by Manchester, who walked up to the women and planted the thought, "Drive home," into their heads. As if in a trance, one of the women climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, driving off. Manchester uncloaked both John and himself, saying, "I get it, John. But if you don't do what needs to be done, I will. Remember that well." John nodded slowly, clenching his jaw. "Who's next?" he asked in spite of himself. "Well, first let me show you something," replied Manchester. Encasing his feet in psychic energy again, he sped off. John followed swiftly, and they arrived just beside a swarm of reporters.

"Why're we here?" asked John. Manchester had psychically cloaked them both once again, and it was starting to wear him down. "We're here because…of him," he huffed. He pointed to an intimidating bald man, who was trying to get through the reporters. One of them shouted, "Mr. Luthor, is the rumored merger with Kord Industries a go?" Luthor gestured for the other reporters to quiet, and he replied, "Mr. Kord has decided to cancel the merger on account of his son, Ted. The boy turned five not too long ago. He told me he doesn't want Ted to help run a weapons company when he grows up. It's unfortunate, if I do say so myself." The reporters continued to bombard Luthor with questions. John was confused, asking Manchester, "That's the guy who runs Lexcorp. Sure, he makes weapons, but he can't be _that_ bad." "You should've thought…more about that statement," retorted Manchester, "I can read his mind…remember? It's almost all he thinks about…weapons, that is. He's not going to be our next target, but...he's down the list somewhere. Just remember that." Manchester's powers gave out, and both he and John were revealed. Fortunately, all the attention was being given to Luthor, and so they slipped away unnoticed to recover. Perpetually prepared, Manchester huddled into their hiding place and ate and drank. He eventually took out a cigarette and lit it. "There's an unseen infrastructure to crime," Manchester breathed out, "An invisible hierarchy. Luthor over there is at the top of the chain. To get to him, you'd have to destabilize everyone else." John looked at the ground, trying to grasp what he was getting himself into.

Bruno Mannheim's death was broadcasted as widely as any of the previous murders. I pleaded to get on the scene, and Mr. White eventually caved, saying, "Fine, Kent." I said, "Thank you, sir. I won't let you down." "You'd better not," Mr. White cautioned me. I nodded, running to Jimmy and telling him, "Get Lois and meet me at the bar where Mannheim was killed. Something's different about this one." We all met up at the bar about half an hour later. I was standing just outside, and Jimmy and Lois walked up to me when they arrived. Lois asked me, "Why haven't you gone in yet?" "I…" I tried. I stopped. Lois obviously didn't understand why I was so apprehensive, but she didn't ask me anything else. All three of us walked into the bar. We'd previously gotten permission from the police, but the body had already been removed. There were a few small puddles of blood, but nothing else. "I'm going to see if there's anything in the back," I said, "I'll get back here in a minute." Jimmy and Lois nodded their approval, and I swiftly removed myself from the main room, going to the back. I said, "Open communication. Kelex, I'm at the crime scene of Bruno Mannheim's murder, but there's not much left to see. You got anything that could help?" "No," said Kelex, "But you do. You have super vision." "I have what?" I asked, surprised. "Advanced ocular abilities," answered Kelex, "You've basically got a pair of binoculars for eyeballs." "Okay," I nodded, "Close communication." I walked back into the main room, kneeling on the floor near the puddles of blood.

Lois asked me, "Hey, did you find anything back there?" "Uh, no," I said quickly, trying to retain my focus on the floor. I imagined my field of vision becoming more magnified, and it happened slowly but surely. It gradually sped up, and the floor became much clearer. I could easily trace the grain of the hard wood, and then I noticed something standing out from the blood. It was a collection of small white shards. I got down even closer, getting my best look at it. I realized what the collection was of, whispering, "Bone shards." "What is it?" asked Jimmy, raising his eyebrows. I turned towards him, answering, "Bone shards. This is from Mannheim's leg. It was broken pretty badly." "So, why does it mean anything?" asked Lois, unimpressed. "This means that Manchester didn't do this," I answered sternly, "Or at least, not all of it. That's why." I looked back at what was left of Mannheim's remains, continuing, "This isn't how Manchester operates. I mean, he finished him off. The hole through Mannheim's heart attests to that. But he wasn't the one who left the blood and these bone shards. No, somebody else did that. Someone strong. They'd have to be. Mannheim was notorious for being his own enforcer. A badly bruised hand, internal damage, and a broken leg. Yeah. This had to be Manchester's new partner." The gravity of this new development had an overt impact on Jimmy and Lois.

"Who could it be?" asked Lois. "No idea," I lied, the green blip from Kelex's monitor popping into my head. I was still uncertain as to the identity of the man or woman behind the blip, but I was able to add, "All I know is that Superman is going to have even more trouble than we thought." I sighed, standing and turning to my friends. I said, "We'd better head back to the Planet. We're not going to find anything else here." We went back, and I began a draft of a new article detailing our findings. My worry grew with every key I hit. I stopped several times to regain my composure and my focus on my work. Later, Jimmy and I went back to our dorm. Jimmy was Skyping with Paige while I put on the identity of Superman. Jimmy said, "Hold on one second, Paige." He muted his side, asking me, "Where you going?" "I'm just going to go flying, is all," I said, "It helps." "All right," nodded Jimmy, "See you later." "You too," I said. Jimmy unmuted his side, saying, "Sorry, Paige. It's just Clark. He's taking a walk." "Say hi to him for me," I overheard Paige say. "You got it," Jimmy smiled. He looked towards me, and I gave him a thumbs-up. I went out our window quickly, flying away from the college. I went into the downtown area of Metropolis, looking for something to do. I suddenly noticed a mugging in progress. "Here we go," I sighed, diving towards the scene.

I landed in the midst of the three muggers, in the way of their victim, quipping, "You know there are easier ways to get nice stuff. Amazon, for example." "Superman!" exclaimed one of the muggers. "You got me," I said nonchalantly, kicking the mugger in the chest. He flew backwards, into the wall of a nearby building. I turned to the man they were attempting to rob. "You'll want to go," I said to him. He ran away, and I turned back to the other two muggers. "It's just the three of us now," I challenged them. One of them fired his handgun at me, the bullet bouncing off my thigh. "Never skip leg day, that's my motto," I said, rushing towards the shooter and tossing him away. The other mugger looked at me and shouted, "Just wait until Manchester Black gets to you! You won't be joking then." "Maybe not," I said, punching him. He dropped to the ground. His remark lingered in my worrisome mind.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX

The following day, Jimmy woke up with a fever. He called Mr. White, sluggishly explaining that he wouldn't be able to make it to work that morning. After hanging up, he flopped over on his side in his bed, wrapping his blanket tighter around him. He looked at me, saying, "Say hi to Lois for me." "Got you," I responded, walking out with my laptop bag over my shoulder. Lois met me outside my dorm building. This was rather unexpected, and as such, I was taken aback, saying, "What's this all about?" "You talk as if I showed up here in my underwear," said Lois, raising her eyebrow, "I just wanted to talk before we went to work." "Well, I _was_ going to walk to work this morning," I said. I looked at her. Her lips were curled into a sly smile, and her eyes twinkled with a playfulness I couldn't deny. "All right, let's talk," I said, smiling. "Good," Lois said, "No one can say no to this face." "Probably not," I agreed. As we walked, Lois asked, "So, you thinking about taking me on another date?" I thought, saying, "Sure. When would you want to go out?" "I thought _you_ were the one thinking about it," Lois said. I chuckled, saying, "Yeah, you're right. Uh…what about this weekend? At the…art museum, and then dinner? They've got a great new exhibit from what I hear." "I heard about that too," said Lois, "All right. Sure." "Oh, by the way, Jimmy says hi," I said. "Doesn't he always," said Lois, grinning. We arrived at the Daily Planet building, and before we went in, Lois took my face in her hands and kissed me on the cheek. "See you this weekend," she said as she went in. I stood out front for a few seconds, rubbing my tingling cheek. I realized I still had to go in, and so I did.

As I sat at my desk, I worked more on some current articles. I also whispered, "Open communication." "Yeah?" asked Kelex. "We need to keep twenty-four hour tabs on any signatures like Manchester Black," I said, "He can't stay hidden forever." "While that may be the case, that'd be quite a feat for even the tech at our disposal," cautioned Kelex. "Well, I need to find him, now," I said. Kelex hesitated, eventually sighing, "Fine. I'll let you know if anything comes up." I said, "Good. Close communication." The necklace stopped buzzing. Meanwhile, Manchester Black was, as was his manner, walking through the city unnoticed. He stole a couple burgers from a fast food place, bringing them to a nondescript hotel room, where John Corben was staying with him. After tossing one burger to John, Manchester sat on one of the two beds, eating the second one and staying very still. "What're you doing?" asked John. "Concentrating," breathed Manchester, "Don't interrupt. You saw the news. I'm suspect number one in Bruno Mannheim's demise. Superman's looking for me for sure. And if he's got as much at his disposal as I think, I'd better restrain my signal." "You can do that?" asked John. "With great difficulty, yes," answered Manchester, "So please, again, don't interrupt." John quietly finished his burger, as did Manchester. Manchester looked up at the ceiling, for seemingly no reason. He laid back in his bed, closing his eyes. John said, "You know, if you want to continue your mission, you're going to have to throw away restraint." Manchester grunted his assent. John quietly laid back in his bed, closing his eyes as well.

Back at the Daily Planet, I finished my articles, and as I passed Lois' desk, I said, "Don't worry. I won't forget this weekend." "I know you won't," Lois reassured me. As I left, I looked out at Metropolis. I couldn't stand the fact that Manchester was somewhere in the massive collection of skyscrapers. _I need to blow off some steam,_ I thought. I sped to my dorm room, putting on my costume and going out our window before Jimmy had time to react. I left the window open, and Jimmy, weakened by his illness, groaned. I flew over the city, staring at the light reflecting off the windows. I saw thousands of people as I passed by. I remembered why Superman exists. He's around to protect those thousands of people. I smiled slightly. "I think we'll get along just fine," I said to myself. I kept flying, marveling at the responsibility I was faced with. I saw someone getting mugged yet again. I hovered lower, saying, "Two muggings in as many days. Must be my kind of week." "Superman," the muggers said, terrified. They ran off, dropping what they'd tried to steal. I floated to the ground, gathering up the things the muggers had tried to get. I handed them to the woman who'd been attacked. She suddenly hugged me, saying, "I almost didn't think anyone would come." "I'll always be here," I said. "I sure hope so," she said. I separated from, flying away. I landed on the same skyscraper roof where I'd met Brainiac what seemed like eons ago. I called Lois, asking, "You off work yet?" "Yeah," she answered, "What is it?" "I just wanted to talk more," I said, "We didn't get much of a chance." On her end, Lois smirked. "Okay," she said. We talked freely.

"So, what're your latest stories?" asked Lois eventually. "Not much big game, sadly," I said, "I really want to write something about Manchester Black and whoever he's running around with. But it's too important for a newbie like me, I guess." "Ah, you'll get it someday," said Lois, "You're good for it." "I'm glad you're believing in me, Lois," I said. "What're friends for?" Lois said happily. "You're right," I laughed, "Thanks." My necklace buzzed. "One sec," I said, muting my side, "Open communication." Kelex said, "Manchester has surfaced. He's attacking the offices of some guy named Morgan Edge." "I know that name," I said thoughtfully, "All right, get me the details, and I'll get him." "Be careful, Kal," said Kelex. "Always," I said, "Close communication." I unmuted my side, telling Lois, "Sorry, Lois. I have to take care of something. See you at work." "And on Saturday," she added for me. I laughed lightly, "Yeah. On Saturday, too." I hung up, and my phone buzzed with a clear map of where to go. I flew to Morgan Edge's office building in a matter of minutes, crashing through a lower window. Above me, I heard distant bursts of energy and different crashing sounds. "Open communication," I said, "Hey, Kelex, what's the deal with this Edge guy?" Kelex took a few seconds to respond. "Okay," he said eventually, "I've run his name through the Fortress' systems. He's at the very least suspected of heading a crime organization called Intergang." "I've heard of Intergang," I said, "They're big news. Manchester's here to cut the head off the snake." Then a thought struck me. Was it really so bad that Manchester was doing this?

I posed the question to Kelex. He thought about his response. Kelex began, "I think…I think he's sort of like Brainiac. He's so focused on stopping these people that he's willing to kill them. But that's just it. Those are still human lives he's extinguishing. Think about it. If you did what Manchester does, what the people think of you? I mean, yeah, the police kill criminals, but you'll be more closely scrutinized because you don't have any known connections. Nobody knows who you are. For all they know, killing a mob boss would just be you taking out competition. Manchester isn't any better than the people he's killing. Get up there." I nodded, saying, "All right. Close communication." I flew upwards, crashing through the floors of the building and arriving on the floor where Edge's office was. All the employees were cowering beneath their desks, and from what I was hearing, Manchester wasn't far behind me. "Leave now!" I said to the employees, "He's not after you, but this is going to get messy." They all reluctantly crawled out from under their desks, heading to the elevators. A few minutes after they got away, the door to the stairs warped and burst. Manchester stepped through the wreckage, his long purple hair strewn across his face. "Hi, Superman," he said, "You make good time." "I never liked being late, after all," I shot back. Manchester chuckled quietly, supporting himself on the wall. I still heard footsteps from behind him. My brow furrowed. Who was this? John Corben stepped up beside Manchester, asking, "You okay?" "I'll be fine," said Manchester. John looked my way. His clothes didn't show any signs of damage.

"So you're the one who beat up Bruno Mannheim," I observed, pointing at John. He nodded solemnly. "You're more…clean-cut than I expected," I said. "This is one of his better days," wheezed Manchester, "John, you might have to cover for me for a few minutes." I looked at Manchester. He was munching on an energy bar. I looked back at John. He said, "You got it, Manchester." He came towards me, raising his fist. He began running. "Oh, man, you can't seriously think you can…" I began. I saw the look in John's eyes, and jumped backwards just in time. John's fist went right into the floor, cracking it. "I can't what?" John said contemptuously. _The green blip, of course,_ I thought. "Oh no," I whispered. "What was that?" asked John. I didn't answer. I flew towards John, grabbing his shoulders and slamming him into the opposite wall. He planted his feet into the floor, effectively stopping me. He grabbed my wrists, wrenching my hands away. I realized that the kryptonite keeping him running was affecting me, even now. I kicked him in the chest before I fell backwards from the force of his push, sending him through the wall. "So something about John is bringing you down, then," said Manchester, "Big perk for us." He chugged his can of Rockstar. "You carry that stuff around with you all the time?" I asked. "Well, yes," said Manchester, "This jacket isn't just to be fashionable." John crashed back through the wall, tackling me and clutching my throat. "Gah," I groaned, punching John in the face. His head snapped to the side, but not much else. His face actually _hurt_ to punch. That'd only happened with Brainiac before. I kept punching despite the pain.

I realized I'd actually started to strip off his skin. My eyes widened, fully expecting to see blood drip out. But then I remembered what Alexander had told me: he's sixty percent metal. The skin around his eye was gone, and green glowing eye and a steel surface was revealed. He saw my surprise, feeling his face. "Wha…?" he began. I kicked him off of me, saying, "Send my regards to your cousin, the Terminator." "Seriously?" quipped Manchester, swallowing the last few drops of a Gatorade bottle. "I have better jokes, believe me," I defended. Manchester tossed the bottle away, saying, "Yeah, sure." John stood up, feeling his metal face. He stripped off the rest of the skin of his face. It was entirely metal, with two artificial green eyes glowing bright. Manchester looked at him and said, "That's going to take some getting used to." "You're the one getting take-out from now on," said John, his voice metallic and slightly warped. "I don't know, it'd be pretty fun to freak out the…" Manchester mused. John glared at him as well as he could with his metal face. "I'll get the take-out from now on," Manchester finished. "So you _are_ Metallo," I said. "I guess I am," said John. "It's a good name," said Manchester, finishing his binge-recovery, "But we can't stay on the subject too long. It's time to finish this ordeal." John charged towards me, as if Manchester's words were his cue.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER X

John grabbed my face, throwing me into a nearby desk. My face smashed into an office computer, crushing it completely. A piece of glass managed to cut the side of my face. I wiped the blood off, looking at it on my fingers. The kryptonite was gradually weakening me. I couldn't keep fighting in the condition I was in. And what was worse, the mask designed to prevent Manchester's attacks was starting to get stuffy, and in combination with the strain I was taking, I wasn't confident in my chances of winning. John kicked the side of my leg, causing me to collapse. I threw a quick punch to his stomach. Apparently that wasn't all metal. He grunted, a couple drops of blood trickling from his mouth. I looked to my left, seeing Manchester slip towards Edge's office. "Sorry, John," I said, quickly rising up and grasping his neck, "But I can't delay." I drove him downwards, sending him through three lower floors. "Hopefully, that'll slow you down a bit," I said to myself. I turned to Edge's office, dashing into it. Manchester was nearly done. Edge's bodyguards were all knocked out on the floor, and Edge shakily pointed a gun at Manchester. Manchester snapped his fingers, and before he could do anything, I snatched Edge away. "Oi!" exclaimed Manchester, "I'm in the middle of something, you gormless chav!" I stowed Edge in a broom closet, breaking the lock so he couldn't get out. When I went back to Manchester, I said, "I'm not sure what either of those insults mean, so I'll just ignore them." Manchester rolled his eyes, throwing an energy bolt at me.

It hit me square in the chest, and I flew through yet another wall. I groaned, feeling my head. "Urgh," I grimaced. I felt my chest. My costume had been singed. "Great," I said, "At least I have replacements." I crawled out from the crater I'd made, and heard Manchester say, "I didn't hit you at full power. I've still got a job to do, after all. Maybe I should have. I guess it doesn't take you long to recover from whatever it is John did to you." He was right. The kryptonite's effects had worn off. It wasn't an appropriate time to celebrate, however. John finally got himself back up to the floor of Edge's office. A lot more of his upper body's fake skin had been removed, and he had subsequently gained a more ragged, robotic appearance. "You're a good challenge, I'll give you that," he heaved. "Thanks for that," I responded, "I appreciate complements." We both ran towards each other. John drove the heel of his hand into my stomach, and I delivered a hard punch to his jaw. I partially damaged his jaw, but his punch had done a number on me. Manchester was still trying to find Edge, however, so I couldn't spend too much time on John. As such, I pushed his shoulders, getting him off of me. I sped towards Manchester, throwing him in the opposite direction from where he was going. He landed hard on his back. "I don't have time to double-team you, Superman!" he said, irritated. "Maybe you should make time," I shot back. "That's what I'm trying to do!" Manchester retorted, "Just tell me where Edge is. It's not like his death will really affect you." I looked Manchester in the eye.

"That'd be selfish," I said, "I have to get him to jail, not kill him. I'm no better than you if I do that." "Oh, now you've hurt me," Manchester mocked, "As if getting a man as rich as Edge in jail would really do anything! You know what he'd do? He'd pay someone or maybe multiple people to get him out like that!" He snapped his fingers at the end of his statement. "Putting him in the ground solves the problem," he continued, "I've never heard of anyone paying themselves out from the other side before. He'd be a first, but I doubt it'll happen." "It's still murder," I said, "I have to stop you." "They always say that," said Manchester, "It's so cliché. 'I have to stop you'. It's everywhere in the movies and the comics, but who says they absolutely have to. There's nothing holding them to their little game of playing superhero. No one should know their identity, so if they so choose, they could just drop off the map and allow all the bad guys to kill each other, as is their wont." "I have to because…" I searched for a phrase, finishing with, "Because it's right." "In an age where so many people believe in subjective morality, what does that have to do with anything?" Manchester fired. "Maybe there is an objective morality," I said, "And maybe it says that murder is wrong, no matter who the victim." "Well, if that's how you think, I guess you really do have to stop me," Manchester sighed. John walked up beside Manchester, staring directly at me.

"You know what, fine," Manchester said, closing his eyes. He was focusing intently on something. I wasn't sure what until his eyes snapped open, saying, "Found him." "What?" I said. "Well, I can't bloody well get past you without expending a lot of energy, so I just spent a little less energy psychically scanning the building. He's in a broom cupboard a few floors down. Thanks for making it convenient." I mentally chastised myself for letting Manchester take precedence over Edge. "Grab Edge, would you, John?" continued Manchester, "And bring him back here when you're done subduing him." John hopped down the hole I'd made with his back. "No!" I exclaimed, running through a nearby wall in an attempt to get past Manchester. "It's going to take more than thinking slightly out of the box," Manchester said, blocking me with a psychic wall. It knocked me back a little. I drove my shoulder into it. Manchester grunted, and the wall cracked. He spouted several British words that I assumed were offensive, as well as some other words I knew were offensive. He threw up his index and middle fingers with his palm facing towards him. "What's with the peace sign?" I asked. "It's like the British version of the finger," Manchester said, exasperated, "But if you'd rather…" He lowered his index finger. "Yeah, that clicks," I said. I punched the psychic wall. It didn't crack any more. "Good luck with that," Manchester said, "I'll get worn out eventually, but 'eventually' is quite some time in this kind of situation." I kept hitting the wall, to no effect.

"If you're trying to learn more British swear words, just know I'm showing more restraint now," Manchester quipped. I jumped upwards, into the next floor up. I then stomped downwards on a nearby spot, dropping back into the floor I was just on. I grasped Manchester's shirt, throwing him over my shoulder. His back hit the corner of a desk. "Gah!" he shouted. He got up immediately, saying, "It's good I'm quick. That could've been bad. I put a shield over my back. But I'm getting spent. I can't waste any more time. JOHN, HURRY UP!" "I'll wear you out before he gets here, believe me," I said. I heard John behind me saying, "Don't count on it." I turned just in time to receive a well-made knuckle sandwich from John. I was knocked backwards, and it was only when I was on the ground that I noticed a beaten and bloodied Morgan Edge over John's shoulder. John forcefully placed his foot on my chest, nearly breaking my ribs. He put Edge down, positioning him on his knees facing Manchester. Manchester promptly snapped his fingers and fired a bolt through Edge's head. "You should've realized you couldn't take us down by yourself," Manchester mocked, "I guess the name Superman doesn't really afford you anything." As they both left, I didn't have the will to stand up. I could only stare at Edge's openmouthed corpse. "I've failed," I whispered to myself. I heard sirens wailing in the distance. Manchester must've called 911, I thought. I pulled off the hood that protected me from Manchester, sighing heavily and getting up reluctantly. I looked toward Edge, saying, "I'm sorry." I smashed through a window, flying towards my dorm room. I had a couple slight bruises and a cut on my face. I'll have to figure out how to explain this to Lois, I thought.

When Jimmy saw me come through the window, he asked, "How'd it go?" "Edge is dead," I said, taking off my mask and hood, "I couldn't do it." Jimmy looked at my costume, saying, "Whoa. Manchester's work, I presume." "Yeah, I have to get a new one," I said. "I thought you got a new one after you fought Brainiac," Jimmy said. "Yeah, well, I have to get a new one, nonetheless," I said. Jimmy examined my face, saying, "Lois is going to get suspicious." "I know," I sighed, "I can't just tell her I fell again." "I'll help you out with your explanation," said Jimmy, "Don't worry." A crazy idea came to me. "By myself," I murmured. "What?" Jimmy questioned, furrowing his brow. "By myself!" I repeated, "Manchester said I should've known I couldn't defeat him and Metallo by myself. I don't have to be by myself! Now, this may not work, but if it does…" I trailed off, irritating Jimmy, who asked, "'If it does', what?" "If it does…" I smiled a little, "What do you think of being referred to as my sidekick?" "Wouldn't be too bad," Jimmy nodded, "But I don't have the kind of endurance or strength you have." "That might not matter," I said, "Give me a while." I flew out of the dorm room, heading the Fortress. This is just crazy enough to maybe work, I thought with a grin. Jimmy stared after me, grumbling, "'Give me a while'. As if I can do anything else right now." He laid back down in bed, groaning for the twenty-sixth time that day.

I arrived at the Fortress about two hours later, landing at the entrance and saying, "Hey, Kelex, I have to pick your brain for a minute." The doors opened, and Kelex rolled forward, saying, "I don't have a brain, but you can certainly ask me whatever questions you want." "Can you contact my friend Jimmy in Metropolis?" I asked. "You want me to call his phone?" asked Kelex in response. "Yeah, that'd be nice," I said. Kelex fell silent for a minute. Eventually, he said, "You're on speaker, Jimmy." Jimmy's voice suddenly came from somewhere on Kelex, saying, "Who's this?" "It's just Kelex, Jimmy," I said. "Who?" Jimmy asked again. Kelex sighed, saying, "Hold your phone out with the screen facing you, Jimmy." "Okay," Jimmy said slowly, confused. Jimmy's face appeared as a mosaic of all the computers in the Fortress. "Oh," he said, "That's Kelex." Kelex waved. I asked Kelex, "So, this is him. Now, I have to ask you an important question. Do you think there's any way an ordinary human could be my sidekick." "Yes," Kelex said immediately, "But only have him come with you if absolutely necessary. Otherwise you're just endangering your friend." "You got it," I said, "So, how would we do this?" "One second," Kelex said. I heard weird grinding noises from behind the wall where the costumes were stowed. "Two birds with one stone," said Kelex, looking at my damaged costume. The wall opened up, revealing what looked like a red suit of armor with a gold fire emblem on the chest. "What's…?" I began. Kelex interrupted, "The Flamebird Project. Basically a super-suit. If it had gone all the way through…" He shook his head.

"I actually like that," said Jimmy, "Flamebird. It's a great name!" "The Flamebird Project was highly experimental, Jimmy," Kelex cautioned, "Be careful." "Sure," said Jimmy, "As long as it can fly." I smiled at Jimmy, happy that I wasn't alone in my fight.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER XI

I brought the Flamebird project back to Jimmy, with instructions on how to put it on. I asked him, "Are you sure? You're still sick. It might not work out well." Jimmy sluggishly rose from his bed, answering, "No, I'll be fine. Just tell me how to get it on." I sighed, saying, "All right, but if you throw up in there, it's your responsibility." "Sure," Jimmy groaned. A few agonizingly slow minutes later, and Jimmy was in the suit. He moved around tentatively, his voice sounding echoic and far away inside. "This is…weird," he said, squatting and rotating his torso a couple times. "I don't feel as slow. It's like the suit's supporting me, like an exoskeleton. What else can it do?" "Well, you're right about it supporting you," I said, "It'll also make your physical attacks stronger. It can fly, too. Say 'prepare thrusters'." Jimmy repeated, "Prepare thrusters." Small booster rockets popped out of the suit's forearms, lower legs, back, and waist. I told him all the other verbal commands, which would activate and deactivate the individual pairs of rockets. "Be precise when you're using them," I said. "Sure," said Jimmy, "I'll be as precise as a surgeon." "Not sure that applies here," I said. "It'll have to do," Jimmy said, "Hide thrusters." The rockets quickly went back into the suit, and Jimmy got out of it, continuing, "We're going to have to be creative about hiding this thing." "We'll cross that bridge when we get there, I guess," I said, nodding, "But you know, with this suit, you'll be more fit to go up against Metallo. You okay with that?" "Sure," Jimmy responded, "I'll fight for you any day. You're my best friend." I nodded, showing my appreciation.

I suddenly got a call from Lois. "Duty calls," I said. I was worried about what had happened to my face, but I knew Lois would get even more suspicious if I just didn't go to her. So I changed into plain clothes and went to the address she gave me. When I got there, I discovered there was a press conference. "Why are we here, exactly?" I asked, sort of confused. Lois answered, "This conference is going to be about the upcoming replacement of some city council members who were fired. If I can get a good story on this, I might even get better pay." I smiled, saying, "So why do you need me?" "You've got a better eye for photos, which is why I asked you to bring yours," she answered. I produced my camera, saying, "Well, thanks. I hope you get a good story." "Oh, hurry up!" Lois said suddenly. She power-walked towards a seemingly random person. I got a few shots of people attending the conference, following Lois. I watched her perform an interview and marveled. She was confident, unflinching, and somewhat intimidating. She wore a perfectly straight face and kept an ice-cold look in her eyes. When she didn't feel she was given straight answers, she let the interviewee know and pressed harder. I smirked. _I really like this girl,_ I thought to myself. When the interview ended, Lois sent her subject off with a handshake and a firm look. She turned back towards me with a brilliant smile, asking, "How'd I do?" "Perfect," I nodded, "Don't worry, I think you got what you came for." Lois hugged me, saying, "Thanks, Clark." Her expression faltered.

"What happened to your face?" she asked, concerned. "It's nothing," I said. Lois touched my scratches, saying, "No it's not. It's like you got into a fight." "No, really, I'm fine," I insisted. Lois' previous mode came over her again, and she asked, "Clark, what are you keeping from me?" I sighed, "It's nothing you need to worry about, Lois, I'm…" "Shut up," Lois interrupted, angry, "You're lying to me about something. You'd better tell me the truth right now. I'll wait for a minute, but if you don't tell me what's going on that messed you up like this, I'll be even angrier." "I…" I began. Lois' lip was trembling slightly, and I could feel my eyes getting misty. I stuttered for a little bit. I couldn't tell her. Not just because I was afraid for her safety, but also because…I just felt that way. _How could I be so callous?,_ I thought, _I'm about to make her cry, and I still won't tell her_. I eventually sighed, the selfish side prevailing. "I can't," I murmured. Lois shed a few tears, not able to meet my gaze. "Lois…" I tried. "No!" Lois growled, slapping me suddenly, "You had your chance to explain yourself. You're supposed to be my friend." "I-I am!" I half-pleaded. "Well, you've sure dropped the ball there," Lois said contemptuously. "Look, I'm sorry, I just can't," I said, "You have to understand." "You must be wrong, because I _don't_ understand," Lois sobbed softly. She turned and walked off. She turned back for a few seconds, saying, "And you can forget about Saturday!" "Lois, I'm sorry!" I said loudly. Lois ignored me, walking to her car. As she started it, she gave me one last glance. I held up my hand, silently asking her to wait. Asking her to give me another chance. She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. She drove off, and I lowered my hand.

Defeated, I walked back to my dorm room, feeling heavier than usual. I was definitely walking slower than anyone else on the sidewalk. It felt like everyone was staring at me in pity. It burned me. An anger slowly rose in my chest, but not at Lois. I was angry at myself, Jor-El, Kelex, and Superman. Most of all, I was incensed with Superman. He was what I was hiding, and he had the gall to convince me to keep him hidden. _You're a coward, Superman,_ I thought. _You and I aren't that far separated,_ it felt like he shot back. I looked down at my hand, staring at the slight abrasions on my knuckles. I closed it into a fist. _I guess we aren't,_ I thought. I walked slower after that. I cursed my powers, wishing more than ever that I was human. I passed by a store with TVs on display. They were showing the news, which was running a story about a firefight between the police and a white supremacist named Alex Trent, who called himself Bloodsport. Several cops had already been injured or killed, and Bloodsport had plenty of backup with him. I heard somebody say quietly, "Where are you, Superman?" I was angry at Superman then, but I knew I needed him anyway. So I shook my head with regret and walked away, heading into an alley and changing into Superman. I shot out of the alley, heading towards the fight. It felt like I was flying at a lower rate of speed. _It's probably nothing,_ I thought. I heard gunshots eventually, looking down and seeing the bloody scene in the distance.

I saw Bloodsport. Just as you'd expect, he had blond hair and blue eyes, and he had Aryan Brotherhood symbols all over him in the form of tattoos, including a stylized S on the backs of both his hands. When he turned around, I noticed a red swastika on the back of his neck. Along with three sixes on his right arm, he also wore a white tactical mask over his mouth and nose. Aside from that, he only wore plain clothes adorned with racist memorabilia. I landed right in front of him. "Hi, Superman," Bloodsport said, somewhat surprised, "What brings you here?" "I'm here to stop you, Bloodsport," I answered. Bloodsport asked, "Stop me from doing what? I'm just getting rid of some dirty #$%% & and the people who love them." I looked behind me. I realized only black police officers had been severely wounded. "You're going to pay for this," I said. "Show me," Bloodsport challenged. I punched his midsection, sending him into the side of a car. He groaned loudly, and his mask stained with blood. "How's that for showing you?" I yelled in defiance. Bloodsport wheezed, "Keep hitting them, boys." His henchmen kept firing at the police. A few were also going at me. I walked forward confidently. _I already know they can't get me,_ I thought. Ordinarily, real guns didn't even hurt as much as a Nerf dart. Of course, that is ordinarily. One bullet caught me square in the chest. I stepped back. It felt just short of getting shot with a vest on. I was confused and slightly terrified.

The henchman that'd shot me shouted, "I thought you were some kind of tough guy, Superman! Having an off day?!" I suddenly realized that fighting them wouldn't be as beneficial to the police as getting them all out of there. Not in my current condition, anyway. I sped towards the police and got them away from the scene. When I returned, Bloodsport was standing up, supporting himself on car he'd gone up against. "You want to play that way?" he groaned, "Well, fine. Light him up, boys! He's just a stumbling block. And surely even _he_ can't withstand that many bullets for a long time." All the henchmen began firing directly at me. I dodged most of them, but one caught the side of my face and another hit my hand. Each impact felt like a punch. Involuntary tears of pain started welling up as I was pummeled by the bullets. I swore again and again, the unexpected blunt pain nearly overwhelming me. I managed to rush over to one of their cars, an SUV. I grabbed its front bumper and flipped it over. With it out of the way, I was able to take down several members of Bloodsport's personal battalion. The pain of the bullets was all over my body by this time. Even Bloodsport seemed slightly confused. He thought something would give, but not this soon. I fought through the pain and swept through Bloodsport's ranks, eventually reaching the man himself. He lowered his own gun, saying, "I'll admit defeat. But one thing…why don't you join us? You're obviously above everyone else, especially those black apes." I lowered my head and pulled down my mask for an instant, spitting on Bloodsport's shoe. My own blood was mixed with the saliva. I punched Bloodsport in the chest. He dropped like a pile of bricks. I turned away, walking with a slight limp.

A couple hours later, I was in a hospital gown at the Metropolis General Hospital. I had walked in in plain clothes right up to the front desk. I fed them a story that I'd been jumped, but because I'd left my wallet at home on accident, the muggers just decided to beat me up. It was easily believable, seeing as how I was covered in bruises and small cuts. They admitted me, and you know the rest. Jimmy walked in a few minutes after I got in the bed, asking, "Clark? Are you okay?" "I'll survive," I said somewhat weakly. "I'm sorry Lois isn't here," Jimmy said, "I tried calling her, but she didn't pick up." "I understand," I said. "What do you mean, 'I understand'?" Jimmy said, shocked, "I know you like Lois. You guys have a date on Saturday, for crying out loud! I mean…" I interrupted, "No, we don't." "Don't what?" Jimmy asked. "We don't…have a date on Saturday," I said. Jimmy didn't say anything. He just let his jaw drop. He sat down in a chair next to me, staring straight ahead. He didn't ask me what happened, which I highly appreciated. I looked at my bruised left arm, saying, "I guess she won't find out about this until I show up to work next. That is, if she's willing to actually look at me." I told Jimmy how my powers had somehow weakened during my fight with Bloodsport. "That's crazy," he said. I nodded. Neither of us said another word. Meanwhile, an invisible Englishman stood just outside my hospital room. He telepathically communicated with John Corben, saying, "I know who Superman is, and how we can leverage him." John hesitated, almost fearing what kind of machinations Manchester Black was planning. "How?" he finally asked. "We get his girlfriend," Manchester answered. He grinned evilly.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER XII

That night, Lois was staring at the ceiling of her dorm room, unable to fall asleep. Having no roommate, she had no one to talk to in person. She looked towards her phone, biting her lip. She swore quietly, slowly picking up her phone and dialing Paige's number. The line rang three times before a groaning, muffled female voice said, "Yes?" Lois said, "I'm sorry to wake you." Paige sat up in her bed, scratching her head and yawning, "It's okay. I'm here anytime. What's up?" "It's about Clark," Lois sighed, "I…canceled a date we set for Saturday. I was mad." "You must have a good reason, right?" Paige asked. "I'm not sure anymore," Lois slowly answered, "Earlier, I thought I was justified, but something keeps nagging me. I don't even know what it is. There's just…some reason why I feel like I was _wrong._ " She recounted our strained conversation. "He's obviously keeping something from you," Paige said, "That's a pretty good reason to cancel a date. I don't see the problem." "It's _what_ he's keeping from me, probably," Lois said, "I mean, the way he was talking…he's not trying to hurt me, and I don't think he's committing some kind of crime or going through some kind of addiction." "Still, if you're dating someone, I wouldn't like secrets, either," Paige said. Lois stood and looked out her window. After she didn't respond for a few seconds, Paige said, "Look, Lois, I think you have good reason to be angry. But don't just avoid Clark." "I'm not avoiding him!" an outraged Lois said. "If you weren't avoiding him, you wouldn't have to call me to vent," Paige retorted, "You need to work this out between yourselves. I have to get back to sleep. Bye." "Okay, bye," Lois said quietly, hanging up. "Love can be a torturous thing," a voice behind Lois said.

Lois turned quickly and gasped, seeing Manchester Black standing in her room. "You're a pretty one," he said, "I can see why you've attracted the attention of someone like him." "You mean Clark?" Lois asked, acting like she wasn't scared. "Sure," Manchester said passively. He sighed, "Unfortunately, those pretty pink lips are going to have to be shut for a while. And, well, just from this meeting, I can tell it'll take a little bit more than duct tape." "What's that supposed to me…?" Lois began. John Corben wrenched open her window and put her in a sleeper hold. With his strength, she was out in a matter of seconds. "I like her already," Manchester said, raising his eyebrows, "She's sassy." John threw Lois over his shoulder, running away. Manchester followed quickly. Soon, they arrived at an expensive hotel, where they had decided to move. Blocking all three of them from view, Manchester led the way to their suite, where John dropped Lois in one bed and sat in a chair. Manchester flopped backwards into the other bed, sighing heavily. "What a night," he said, "Kidnapping girls sure takes it out of you." He pointed at John, adding, "Well, not you, I guess." "What're you planning on doing to her?" John asked, somewhat nervously. "I'm not the kind to defile another man's girl," Manchester answered, "There's no finesse in that. I'm not planning on harming one hair on her head. Just knowing she's gone will rile up Superman enough." Lois stirred in the bed, moaning.

She opened her eyes to find Manchester standing directly over her. She tried to get away, but she found that she was kept to the bed by two pairs of fuzzy, leopard-print handcuffs. She panicked until Manchester said dryly, "Don't worry. Those just take less energy to get than police-issue handcuffs. We're not taping this, or anything." Lois gulped, "What do you want from me?" "To stay right there," Manchester answered, "Your presence is literally all we need. Like I said, the handcuffs are only to keep you here." " _Why_ do you want me here?" Lois asked. "Hostage for Superman," Manchester answered, "Once he learns you're here, he'll come running." Lois knew something was off. "Why would Superman come running for me, specifically?" she asked carefully, "It's not like there wasn't another girl you could pick up just as easily." "You know what?" Manchester responded, "Right now, that's none of yours. You'll just have to talk it out with the Blue Boy Scout when he comes to rescue you. Of course, there could be a _slight_ problem. I have to provoke him, and that's not generally a good policy. Anyway, stay put, lovely. I've got some villains to kill. And you know, just so you're not bored…" Manchester turned on the TV in the hotel room, which happened to be on an adult pay-per-view channel. "Yeugh," Manchester groaned, "Well, you seem like a capable girl. You'll figure it out." He tossed her the remote, lightly patting her cheek and smiling. Lois quickly changed the channel as Manchester hopped out the hotel window with John in tow.

Meanwhile, work and school waits for no one, so I was in my hospital bed, full up on pain meds and clacking away on my laptop. Jimmy was snoring in a nearby chair, having tried to get comfortable for hours. Earlier, he'd said, "No, man, I'm not leaving you. You're my friend. What if you…have a heart attack, or something?" "I think it would be kind of difficult for me to have a heart attack," I had snickered. Jimmy had searched for another reason, eventually smiling and saying, "Without me, you won't have anyone to talk to. So you'd better let me stay." I chuckled, saying, "All right, all right, Jimmy. You can stay." I smiled just thinking about it. I looked down at my phone. I picked it up, sighing and going to my contacts. My thumb hovered over Lois' name. I sighed heavier, calling Lois. It rang and rang, and soon I wondered if she was ignoring me. Little did I know Lois' phone was in her dorm room where it was left. Eventually, Lois' voice came over the phone, saying, "What am I even supposed to say? It'd sound cheesy and kind of stuck-up if I said 'congratulations', and…" She was interrupted by a beep. "Hi, Lois, it's Clark," I said, "I just, uh…" I sighed and hung up. I looked up at the clock in the hospital room. It was just past midnight. "Come on, man," I said to myself, "Focus." I took a sip from a water bottle I had next to me. At that point, with Lois not answering and impending deadlines to think about, it felt like rusty gears were actually turning inside my head.

I tried calling her one more time, and after getting her voicemail, I said, "Hey, Lois. Sorry about that last voicemail. I swear I'm not usually that bad at leaving messages. I'll…" I stopped again, this time in a more sudden fashion. The weight on my mind increased. What if she just didn't want to talk to me? Would she avoid me when I got back to work? _It's pretty likely,_ I thought. Another thing troubling me was how I wasn't able to finish leaving a message. My heart just…wasn't in it. It's a painful thing to admit, let alone recognize, but I didn't feel like I should have left her a full message. "Boy, do I feel like a jerk," I whispered, "Open communication." Kelex immediately asked, "What's happening? It's pretty late there, Clark." "I'm aware," I said, rubbing my eyes, "I just need someone to talk to…and…how much do you know about the life and times of Socrates?" "What?" Kelex asked. "College paper," I answered, "Seven to eight pages." "What've you got so far?" Kelex asked. "Two-and-a-half pages and sources that I don't know what to do with," I said, raising my eyebrows, "Typical college stuff." "This wouldn't be cheating, would it?" Kelex asked, "I mean, I am basically a supercomputer. Or I'm connected to one, at least." "Surely not," I said as innocently as possible, "We're just…study buddies." "Study buddies," Kelex mused over the term. He eventually sighed, "Fine." I smiled, saying, "Thanks, Kelex." "You're welcome, Kal," he replied. The sound of my real name, for whatever reason, put me more at ease. "All right, let's get started," I said quietly, putting my hands at the ready over the keyboard.

After Kelex and I finished the paper with enough content to get me some extra credit, I went right to sleep. I was sleeping well into next morning. Jimmy suddenly woke up to a call from Mr. White. "What is it, boss?" he asked quickly. Mr. White's answer shocked him. "I'll tell Clark right away," he said, "Thanks for letting us know." Jimmy hung up, shaking me awake and saying loudly, "Hey, Clark! Wake up, now!" I mumbled, "Five more minutes, man." Jimmy said frantically, "No, this is important!" "Fine," I groaned, sitting up, "What is it?" "It's Lois!" Jimmy said, "She didn't show up for work today!" Lois never missed a day of work. Stunned by the news, I simply stared straight ahead. "I have to tell Paige about this," Jimmy said, dialing her number on his phone. As he was calling her, I felt my strength suddenly return. I ripped out my IV and hopped out of the bed, getting dressed as quickly as I could. I soon realized that I still hurt all over. I'd never been bruised this badly. "Ugh," I groaned. "Hey, you're still in pretty bad shape," Jimmy said, "Don't go yet." "I have to!" I insisted. "We'll find her later!" Jimmy said, "Hang on…yeah, Paige…I'm going to need you to stay calm…I have some bad news." I ignored Jimmy and hobbled out of the room as fast as I could. I heard Jimmy say, "Hey, WAIT!" I tried to go faster, causing more pain and supporting myself on the nearest wall. I got out of the hospital, heading straight for our college.

I didn't want to try flying, so I took a taxi and arrived in a few minutes. I walked into the girls' dorm and found Lois' room, which was surrounded by a crowd of other girls and numerous police officers. I showed them my ID from work and said, "I'm working this story." "What happened to you?" a suspicious officer asked. "Fell down the stairs," I answered quickly, pushing past him into Lois' room. A draft was coming in as a result of the broken window. Suddenly, Jimmy rushed in, saying, "Hey, man, you've got to…" He looked around. "Wow," he said, "Not good." "I'll say," I said angrily, "Whoever took her is going to pay." "Do you have an idea who might've done it?" Jimmy asked. "Yeah," I answered, "I just hope I'm wrong." I used my super vision to look at the carpet closely. My eyes locked on something that made my stomach churn and a lump form in my throat. I bent over, gingerly picking it up. "What's that?" Jimmy asked. "I guessed right," I said quietly, handing what I'd found to Jimmy. It was a neon purple strand of hair. "We only know one guy who has hair like this," I said. "Manchester," Jimmy said. I nodded grimly, setting my jaw in anger.

Just outside the room, a hidden Manchester smiled, saying, "Tell him what he's won." He watched me as I sat down hard in a chair. "That's right," he continued, "Get angry. I'm nearly finished with my work. And then, my little experiment will pay off. Oh, yeah, it will." He turned away and walked back to the hotel room at a normal pace. "I wonder," he said, "Maybe…nah, too flashy. How about…I'll consider it more. Hmm. I ought to give myself a pat on the back. This is genius. Just pure genius." When he arrived at the room, John was guarding Lois. She was awake. Manchester stared at her. "What are you looking at me like that for?" Lois demanded. "Just thinking about my plans for you," Manchester smiled in response.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER XIII

At the crime scene, reporters had already started showing up. I was ready to leave and get Manchester, but a reporter stopped me, shoving a recorder in my face and saying, "Cat Grant, Daily Planet. I couldn't help but notice that you're _the_ Clark Kent. Word around the block is that you were friends with the victim. What can you tell us about that?" I restrained my anger, saying, "D-don…don't say 'were', all right? And drop the whole 'victim' thing. We _are_ friends, and her name is Lois Lane." "Just trying to get a story, man," Cat said, taken aback. I replied, "Shut up about your story, please." I walked right past her, glaring straight ahead, and Jimmy looked at her apologetically as he followed. He caught up to me, latching his hand onto my shoulder and saying in a concerned tone, "Hey, man, you got to keep a lid on. Cat back there might've been obnoxious, but she really was just doing her job." "Jimmy, you don't understand, so don't try and act like you do," I said bitterly, "I'm going after Manchester." Jimmy roughly turned me around, taking me by surprise. "Hey!" he nearly shouted, "I know you like Lois. I know Manchester took her. I know he's doing who knows what to her wherever he's got her stowed. But you _can't_ let that get in the way. I'm your friend, and I'm also _Lois'_ friend. So I'm not pretending. I understand, you got that? And from the looks of things, I've got a clearer look at what's going on. You can't fly off the handle like you did with Cat, and you can't rush in blind. Nothing good will come from either of those. And remember…you're not alone in this whole superhero thing. You've got Flamebird." "You're not trained," I said. "Like you are?" Jimmy laughed, "Trained or not, I'm the best guy you got on your side right now, aside from Kelex. Manchester's got Metallo, and I happen to be immune to the effects of Kryptonite. You said it yourself. You've got to let me help you." I opened my mouth, wanting to respond. Instead, I closed it, sighed, and closed my eyes.

I said, "Open communication. Kelex, send the Flamebird suit to the dorm." "On its way now," Kelex said. "Thanks," I responded quietly, "Close communication." We headed back to the dorm, walking in to find the window open and the Flamebird suit standing in the middle of the room. As we walked in, it opened up for Jimmy to step inside. He looked at me and said, "Mine's officially cooler than yours." "At least I don't need my suit for powers," I retorted. "At least _I_ don't have any weaknesses," Jimmy shot back. "Yeah you do," I said. Jimmy rolled his eyes, mumbled, "Fine," and got inside the suit. He asked, "So, what do we do now? We got any…criminals to stop, or something?" Suddenly, Jimmy heard Kelex answer, as though he were inside the suit, "Yeah. There's another police standoff. It looks like a guy named Frank Sixty is trying to start up an offshoot of Intergang. The current members, including Morgan Edge's father, Vincent, don't like that." Jimmy looked around, as though he was searching for Kelex. "How…?" he began. "Kal's father helped make the Flamebird suit. One thing he suggested is efficient communication. It took a lot of work, but now I can just speak to you directly." "It feels weird," Jimmy said. "Not as weird as how it feels when _I_ talk to him," I said, "What'd he just tell you?" He relayed the info, and we both went out the window, Jimmy leading the way. "You fly slower!" I shouted to him. He shouted back, "Well, you…gah, you're right!" I smirked as we neared the scene. We landed in the middle of the three groups of people, the two Intergangs in front of us, the police behind us. Jimmy turned and whispered to me, "So, what now? Do we just…fight?" "I don't know," I admitted, "I always felt like talking first was…intimidating, or something." Jimmy nodded, "Intimidating. I think I can do that." He stepped towards the gangs, turning momentarily to the police and saying, "You might want to hang back. This could get rough." All the officers were obviously wondering who Jimmy was, whispering amongst themselves and looking at him strangely.

Frank Sixty stepped out from the crowd and decided to speak up, shouting, "Who's this guy?" Jimmy said heroically, "Me? I'm Fla…" His voice cracked noticeably. "I'm Flamebird," he finished. "What was that the first time?" Sixty smiled. "Hey man, I have to deal with it," Jimmy answered defensively, "My dad had to until he was in his thirties. Don't hate." I bumped his shoulder, saying, "Do you really have to be explaining something like this to them? Just skip to the fighting at this point." Jimmy nodded, but then said, "Do I have…distance weapons? I don't…" He messed around with his hands for a little over thirty seconds, muttering, "Kelex, please be helpful." Eventually, Jimmy did it right, flicking his wrists upwards with his palms facing outward. Columns of flame twisted out of his arms, coming dangerously close to the gang members. They stepped back in alarm, letting go of whatever amusement Jimmy had afforded them earlier. Jimmy looked at me, grinning and saying, "I have flamethrowers on my arms. You don't." "I have laser eyes," I one-upped. "Wait a minute," Jimmy realized. He put the undersides of his wrists together, connecting his fingertips. The flamethrowers started firing, but they were held at bay by a small force field being emitted by his fingers. "Oh…" he began. He opened his fingers, allowing a huge, literal fireball to burst from his wrists. The gang members ducked in fear, and the fireball flipped a nearby car. Jimmy pumped his fists in the air, finishing his statement in a shout, "YEAH!" He turned to me again and said, "No use arguing about it now. Mine's cooler." "That is pretty cool," I sighed in agreement.

"So now Superman's got a sidekick," Sixty said, checking if he was missing any hair, "Now, isn't that just dandy?" "I'm not a sidekick," Jimmy said, indignant, "I'm his partner in crime…fighting." "Keep telling yourself that," Sixty said condescendingly. "Oh, that's it!" Jimmy growled, jumping forwards. He landed right in front of Sixty, grabbing him by his shirt and hurling him onto the windshield of a car. "So this is what it feels like," Jimmy mused, "Feels good." Jimmy sneezed. "Except for that," he said once he realized he couldn't wipe his face, "That kind of sucks." The Intergang members on both sides had begun shooting at Jimmy, the bullets clanging off the suit. I zipped around to make sure no one was hit by the ricocheting bullets. One of them managed to hit me, worsening a bruise I'd gotten before. "Grah!" I grimaced, trying not to let the pain impair my focus. Jimmy was running around the scene, and though he couldn't go nearly as fast as I could, he was still making his way through the enemy ranks faster than any normal person. Once, however, a bullet hit one of the few chinks in the suit's armor, grazing his leg. "Ungh!" he shouted, clutching at his lower leg. He sped towards the guy who shot him and swept his legs out from under him. The Intergang members were now completely focused on Jimmy. I motioned for the police to take cover, and I joined in to help Jimmy.

"You want to do this Legolas-Gimli style, or what?" I joked. "Dude, I just got shot for the first time in my life," Jimmy said, a little irritated, "Please be serious." "Sorry," I said sheepishly. It felt good to fight alongside my best friend. It was energizing, in fact. It didn't take us long to finish off the rest of the Intergang members, leaving them to be apprehended by police. A few minutes later, the press began arriving. "Sure you don't want to stay, man?" Jimmy asked, "We could get on the cover page of The Daily Planet, or maybe even something like People." "I don't think the spotlight would be good for either of us," I said. Jimmy looked somewhat longingly at the group of reporters fast approaching. "You've been doing this longer than I have," he sighed, "I guess I'll take your word for it." We both flew back to the dorm, getting out of our suits. Jimmy immediately showed me his leg, saying, "Check that out. My first wound in battle!" "Good kind of hurt?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "No, it's actually…pretty terrible," Jimmy said, "Where are the bandages?" I pointed to the dorm's bathroom, saying, "The first aid kit's in the closet. I've stocked up on gauze recently, believe me." "So, what're we going to do about the hospital?" Jimmy asked, hobbling into the bathroom, "I mean, we _did_ just sort of leave." "I'll pay," I sighed, "I'm just glad I didn't need anything like surgery." Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I walked over to it, picking it up and reading the caller ID. My stomach lurched when I realized it said "Lois".

I answered immediately, asking frantically, "Lois? Where are you? Are you okay?" "Calm down, mate," Manchester Black said, "She's not suffering, I'll tell you that much." "What've you done with her?" I demanded. Jimmy walked in with gauze around his leg, looking concerned. I mouthed Manchester's name angrily. Jimmy clenched his jaw. "You'll find out yourself," Manchester answered me, "I don't want to play any games. Well, actually, I do. Sort of. You see, I've found an alternative to just holding her captive and waiting for you to arrive." "What's that supposed to mean?" I growled. "Nothing in particular," Manchester responded, "In fact, the answers will come very quickly when you get the address I'm sending you. Cheerio. Don't do drugs." He hung up, and seconds later, I got a text. "Time to suit up again, Flamebird," I said solemnly, "We've got somewhere to be." Jimmy nodded, and we both suited up yet again, flying to the address. It was a hotel. "Do you think this is where she is?" Jimmy asked me. "Maybe," I answered, "Maybe he's left some clue. I don't know." "That doesn't sound like Manchester," Jimmy observed. "Yeah, it doesn't," I agreed, "But it's the best scenario I can come up with." Reluctantly, we stepped through the front door. My phone received another text as we looked around, realizing that there wasn't anyone at the front desk. I read it, seeing that it was a number.

"Must be a room here," I said. "Let's go check it out," Jimmy said. Almost ignoring what Jimmy said, I said, "That means Manchester's here somewhere." I looked around in vain. "Look, finding Lois is more important," Jimmy said, "Let's go." I sighed, "All right. Let's get up there." We ran up there as quickly as we could, finding the door to the room. The knob was stained with blood. "What…happened here?" I asked no one, my hand shaking as I touched the knob, smearing the blood. I got yet another text, which made me want to smash my phone. It said, "It's unlocked, mate." I didn't want to open the door. I lowered my hand, hesitating. I looked at my phone. Like I expected, another text popped up, saying, "Go on." I gulped hard, opening the door and letting it creak out of my way. I gingerly stepped inside the room, looking all over the short entrance hall. I saw Lois' feet. She was lying on the far bed. As I stepped closer, I realized her jeans and shoes were smeared with blood. "Please…don't be…" I sobbed quietly. I rushed over to Lois, finding her mouth hanging open and her eyes glazed. I kneeled beside her, seeing the blood still trickling from her mouth and soaking into her shirt. I unmasked myself, breaking down and cradling her head. I stroked her head and wailed, her blood mingling with my tears.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER XIV

I pressed my forehead up against hers, gasping for breath. I rose up again, holding her head up to my chest, resting my chin on the top. I looked at her arms, realizing that she had bruises on her wrists. "They hurt her, Jimmy," I sobbed, "They…they hurt her! They hurt her before…they hurt…oh, why?!" I could barely keep myself straight, Lois' cold body feeling stiff. I lowered her head, looking into her once beautiful eyes and her bloodstained lips. I couldn't remember exactly what she used to look like. I brushed her hair back, saying, "She always liked her hair to be nice." I choked on the growing lump in my throat as I realized the pain involved in saying 'liked' instead of 'likes'. I could no longer look at her, backing up and walking out of the room, my face in my hands. Jimmy was right behind me, saying, "Clark…?" I leaned against the wall, whimpering, "She didn't deserve this, Jimmy. She was going to make it. She was going to be a reporter, a-an interviewer. She wasn't supposed to…d…she wasn't…she was my friend! And I let her down again." And then the final blow landed. I slid down the wall, lowering my voice even further and crying, "I didn't apologize to her. She only knew me as a pretender. I never got to tell her how sorry I am – _what_ I've been hiding from her." I looked at my phone, seeing the number without a contact name on my screen and the taunting messages. "It's all his fault, Jimmy," I suddenly growled, "It's all his fault, and I…I want to…" I squeezed my phone in anger, barely preventing myself from breaking it. "My strength is gone," I realized, "If I were normal, I could break this thing without thinking, but now it feels like a struggle." Suddenly, we heard clattering from inside the room and a window opening.

We rushed inside the room, seeing the far window open, the curtains billowing with the wind. I walked over to the window, sticking my head outside and shouting, "YOU'RE DEAD, YOU MURDERER! YOU'RE DEAD! YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED HER! I'M GOING TO TEAR YOUR THROAT OUT!" The anger turned to sadness again as the thought entered my mind that I'd never see that sweet girl again. I stumbled backwards and sat down hard on the bed she was on, crying louder than I had before, my throat sore from the shouting. Jimmy walked right to me and said, "Come here, man." He hugged me like a brother, continuing, "She was my friend too. We're going to beat this. We're going to beat Manchester." I pulled away, saying, "I want to kill him for what he's done. I feel like I _need_ to." "Clark, we both know that's not the ans…" Jimmy tried. I interrupted, "How can it not be, Jimmy? Lois is…gone, and it's all Manchester's fault. I can't keep myself from going after him. Neither can you." "Clark, wait…" Jimmy protested. I didn't respond, putting on my mask and flying straight out of the room. Jimmy flew after me as best he could, knowing full well that he couldn't catch up.

A woman who was staying down the hall heard some of the commotion, getting out of her room and walking towards the one Lois was in. As she was about to enter and check it out, the door slammed and a pale, shivering man appeared. Though he appeared weak, he clamped his hand over her mouth before she screamed, saying calmly, "You didn't see me here, or I come back for you. And if you think, 'That's impossible; I'm only passing through; I'll be gone soon,' think again. No matter how far away you live from this place, I'll find you. I can find anyone." He released her and stormed away, calling John Corben on his phone. "Metallo," he wheezed, "It's done. Superman's fired right up. Now what we do is wait." "Are you sure this was a good idea?" John asked, "I mean, with Superman angry, surely he's more of a threat. And of course you heard about his new sidekick, right?" Manchester paused. His full plan hadn't been revealed to John. All he knew was that he didn't have to worry about guarding Lois anymore. John inquired, "Manchester?" Manchester snapped out of it, answering, "Look, just…don't worry. I have it under control. If this doesn't work, I don't know what will. I'll call you later. I have to check on something." "What is it?" John asked, curious. Manchester responded, "A…supplementary part of my plan, if you will. Now, seriously, goodbye. I need to rest." He hung up and hid in the hotel's nearest bathroom. As he sat down in one of the stalls, he produced a bag of Cracker Jack'd and said to himself, "I deserve this today." He downed the bag and sighed, leaving the bathroom as quickly as he could.

Meanwhile, I'd flown to the police station, walking right through the front door. Jimmy was a few minutes behind, but eventually, he walked in right as I asked, "You guys have any crimes in progress?" The officer I'd asked answered, "Um…yeah. We've got a few hostage-takers in a bank. I'm actually running correspondence right now." He took a good look at my eyes. He eventually asked, "You, uh…you feeling okay, Superman?" I answered after an uncomfortable silence, "Never felt better." I walked out without so much as glancing at Jimmy, who stammered and ran out after me. He caught my shoulder, saying, "Hey, wait! Clark, we have to talk. You can't just go off and ignore it." "This isn't me ignoring it," I rebutted, "This is me doing something about it." "What?" Jimmy asked, incredulous, "I know you're angry, but this won't do anything! Those hostage-takers probably have nothing to do with Manchester! You can't lash out like this!" "You want somebody who won't 'lash out'?" I asked condescendingly, "Go be Batman's sidekick." I flew off. Jimmy sighed, "Not again," and flew after me. I flew around the city, looking for the bank. I found it within minutes, crashing right through the front window and grabbing a hostage-taker. I tossed him a few feet above me, ending in his landing twenty feet below me onto a solid wooden desk. He groaned loudly and slowly writhed in pain, clutching at his lower left leg. His partners stared at him, and then at me.

One tried, "Su…!" I flew towards him too quickly to let him finish, shoving him towards a wall. He hit the wall hard, instantly getting knocked unconscious, his mouth oozing blood. The third hostage-taker was still standing. I looked at the one I'd just taken down, flying towards him and preparing to punch him. I heard a click behind me. I chuckled, "You think a bullet's going to do anything to me?" My voice faltered when I saw that he wasn't aiming at me. He had a girl in her late teens by the neck, his gun up to her head. "I don't care how fast you are," he said, "You make a single move, and this girl's going on in ambulance inside a body bag." My anger subsided. I held up my hands, saying, "Okay, let's just…calm down. No one's going to die." "Really?" he said, "I know you have a track record for sparing your enemies, Superman, but I'm getting a funny feeling that if I let this girl go, that 'one rule' stuff is going right out the window." "No, it's not…" I began. Suddenly, Jimmy zoomed in and surprised the hostage-taker, powering off his jets just in time to deliver a powerful kick to the hostage-taker's chest. Jimmy landed on his feet, walking over to the girl and asking, "You okay?" She nodded quickly, taking an alarmed, almost fearful glance at me. Jimmy looked past me to see the battered hostage-taker I'd gotten to earlier. He stormed up to me, shoving his finger right up to my face and saying forcefully, "We're going. Now." He flew off without another word. I looked at the girl. She gulped at me, quickly looking away. I turned back to the window, flying after Jimmy.

I followed him to a rooftop near the outskirts of the city. As I landed, I saw that Jimmy had his arms crossed. I walked towards him. He said, "You need to calm down. You need to stop." "I…" I began. I sighed heavily, "I-I get…what you're saying. But you saw! You saw _exactly_ …what Manchester did to _our_ friend!" "I did, Clark!" Jimmy responded, "You know I did, and I will _never_ be able to tell you…" He stopped suddenly, puffing out a long breath. His voice lowered and wavered, and he finished, "I will _never_ be able to…express…how painful it was. Believe me. I mean, not even having a body to bury? What kind of end is that? You were right earlier. She didn't deserve any of this. But I know exactly what else she didn't deserve. Imagine if she saw us, the two guys she loves most, going right down to Manchester's level. What do you think she'd say? Do you think she'd even be able to meet our eyes anymore?" He stepped right up to me and jammed his index finger onto my chest, continuing, "Let me tell you something, Clark. You may be my best friend, but I will _not_ let you dishonor Lois' memory. I won't let you make her death in vain. Look…" By this time, the day had turned to a peaceful night. Jimmy looked up to the stars and finished, "It's getting late. I'm going back to the dorm." He left me on the rooftop, staring at the night sky. I thought back over a year earlier, when I got my first glimpse at Lois. I'm still not sure how I ever got the chance to see her before I met her. At that moment, though, I simply asked quietly, "You up there now, Lois?" The stars didn't answer. I took off my mask, my eyes already getting wet from the tears that had begun to form on them. I held the mask in my hands, saying, "I hope you know I'm sorry. I thought I could protect you better if I…lied. I was wrong. I was wrong, Lois, and I'm so sorry." I shifted my feet a couple times before sighing heavily, a teardrop landing on my mask. I put it back on, flying after Jimmy, the wind drying my tears.

Meanwhile, Manchester walked slowly down the darkened streets, almost no one outside to disturb him, the hood on his leather jacket pulled over his head. The powered on televisions in the window of a shop caught his attention. He stopped to watch them for a minute. They were tuned to a political talk show, where an uptight-looking woman was saying, "Yes, Superman is a huge issue. Before, sure, he was taking out robbers, gangsters, all those types, but now we've let him run unbridled. That kind of power gone unchecked can be cataclysmic, I hope you all realize. I truly believe that we have to use government resources to monitor Superman, and if not monitor him, neutralize him." Another man on the show asked her, "What might you mean by 'neutralize', if I may ask?" The woman simply leaned back and answered, "I think you already know the answer to your question." Manchester cracked a wicked grin, chuckling, "Your time's coming, mate. I knew it from the beginning." He continued chuckling quietly as he walked, idly thinking up headlines for articles he imagined would show up in the following day's paper. As he kept imagining them, he kept getting giddier. "Oh, I love it all!" he rejoiced, "I really do!" He walked all the way to an apartment building, a place completely separate from where he and John were staying.

He walked inside, sneaking into the currently vacant apartment he'd managed to take over. He walked to the center of the main room, saying, "Hello, lovely. Good nap?" Lois Lane slowly raised her head, her lips covered with duct tape and her tired eyes pleading silently.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER XV

Manchester looked into Lois' eyes for a few seconds, sighing, "All right, fine." He removed the duct tape from her mouth, continuing, "I know you have some things to ask." The look in Lois' eyes turned from exhaustion to anger as she growled through gritted teeth, "Why are you doing this? What's going on?" "Well, ah…one second," Manchester said, pulling up a chair in front of Lois and sitting in it. He leaned back, resting his heels on Lois' thighs and crossing them. "That doesn't hurt, does it?" Manchester asked with feigned sincerity. Lois just glared at him. "Pretty _and_ tough," Manchester observed, raising his eyebrows, "You've got moxie, little girl. But of course, you're focused on answers. I can understand that. Let's see…you are here because I want to prove something. It's a rather unusual something, probably never attempted by any other such as myself. And its process is kind of long. See, you start out with a guy. To be exact, a guy you can't help but detest. Then you identify what he loves. Finally, you kill what he loves." "You don't mean…" Lois was on the verge of crying, wondering if she would die by Manchester's hand. "Oh, no, no, no, no," Manchester responded, "That would be beastly of me if I killed you. You haven't deserved it, at least. No, indeed, you will stay alive while in my care. But your friends don't know that." "What…?" Lois began. Manchester suddenly planted his memories into Lois' brain, showing her what I had seen in the hotel room.

At one point, she saw my face. She started crying, hearing my laments over her body. "No," she sobbed, "All he remembers…I turned away from him. I left him alone." She began sobbing uncontrollably, "Please don't let me see any more of this." "Okay," Manchester assented, stopping his transmission. Lois was still crying, hanging her head lower and lower. "Yeah, that's right," Manchester said gleefully, "Even after what you did to him, he still cared about you a _lot_. Even after you walked away in such a fuss, he cried over what he still thinks is your dead body. And now that you know what he's been hiding from you, and you finally understand, you can't even tell him!" Lois said weakly, "You…" Manchester interrupted, "Monster? Maniac? Psycho? I've heard all of them, princess, and all they do is make me more driven. It's actually quite good for me." "You know what'll happen," Lois said through her tears, "Clark will come here and rescue me." "Mmm," Manchester shrugged, "I'm not so sure you'll be as confident when it's over." "What're you talking about?" Lois demanded. "You see, when a man has his girlfriend ripped from him like Superman believes has happened, he gets _very_ angry," Manchester answered, smirking, "And when a man gets very angry, especially one such as Superman, he goes after the responsible party. And my, my…when he gets ahold of whoever done it, it's never a pretty picture." Lois' eyes dawned with terrible realization.

"You're not…" Lois began, her mouth slowly dropping open. "I assure you, I am," Manchester interrupted, "Superman will find me here, I'll project another image of a torn-up, dead version of you, and well…you won't even be able to look him in the eye after it's over. He'll have sunk to my level. He'll no longer be your hero, and I'm quite sure you'll find it hard to keep him as your friend. With this being the case, I suppose I should enjoy everything while it lasts." "But…why?" Lois asked. "Ah," Manchester said, "My kind is somewhat of a dying breed. Swift and permanent justice is no longer held in favor by the public. Even my own sister, Vera, she's not in this line of work anymore. I guess the world has moved on, and I'm…left in the dust, you might say." "You don't have to do it this way," Lois pleaded with Manchester in spite of herself. "You're so naïve, Lois," Manchester chuckled, "It's completely necessary that I do it this way. I say I'm a member of a dying breed, but I'll make sure that Superman joins me. He always goes around, handing over his enemies to the police and thinking he's so much better than me. He gets the girl. He gets the good press. All the while, I'm up to my neck in the filthy reality of justice, and I'm demonized. And sure, like any other man of _his_ kind, he's experience _some_ negative appraisals, but it's nothing compared to me." He paused for a minute, staring off into space, deep in thought. Eventually, he turned back to Lois and finished, "If this is to be my last accomplishment, I'll be satisfied with it." He stood and reapplied the duct tape, saying, "Cheerio, lovely. I've still got other business to conduct." He walked out, Lois' eyes already tearing up again as the door to the room was slammed shut and locked.

Manchester quickly headed to where he and John were staying. As he entered their room, John looked towards him and said in outrage, "Where've you been? I've been waiting for an hour! Are we going to do this or not?" "Calm down, Metallo," Manchester said, "I just took a detour. It's pleasant here at night." "You're hiding something," John growled. "Sure," Manchester assented, "You think you can get it out of me exactly what?" John's full-green, luminous eyes set within his skeletal, metal face locked with Manchester's tired yet determined ones. John sighed, a sound that now seemed like it came through a long steel pipe, "Fine. You're ready, right?" "Yeah," Manchester said, "You?" John said thoughtfully, "We're about to take on arguably the biggest business mogul in the last century, so…I guess." Manchester walked up to John and placed his hand on his shoulder, nodding and saying, "Good man, John." "I thought I was 'Metallo'," John said. "Ah," Manchester shrugged, "Semantics." "That's not how you use 'semantics'," John said. "Semantics," Manchester shot back. "Now, th…" John began. He stopped, sighing again and saying, "Let's just get this over with." "Righto," Manchester nodded, smirking. They slipped out of the room like always, rushing towards the epicenter of the Metropolis skyline: the Lexcorp HQ skyscraper.

When they reached the entrance, John was about to break down the door as was routine when Manchester threw his hand onto John's chest and hissed, "Hey! Stop. This isn't your average joe's security system, nor is it at the level of our other hoity-toity targets. It's _better._ This is the best. It's not even on the market. You take the door off its hinges, you get caught. You break the glass, you get caught. You jimmy the door, you get caught. You _get too close,_ you get caught." "So what do we do?" John asked incredulously. Manchester continued, "Well, there's far more than one advantage to a powerful mind such as mine. For one, it can hide us from that security camera over there. For another, it can allow me to remember practically anything. This includes instructions on how to disarm this specific kind of security system, which I acquired over certain discreet channels. Let me work, please." John stepped back from the door. Manchester felt his way along the outside wall. "Where's the access panel?" John asked, furrowing his brow as well as he could. "Wait for it," Manchester whispered. Eventually, his fingernail caught something in the wall, and he grinned, kneeling in front of it. "Showtime," Manchester said. "How do we even know Luthor will be here?" John asked, doubting their plan would work. "We know because I've been inside the building enough," Manchester answered, "I've spied on the staff enough to know our guy's schedule. Tonight, he has no parties, no meetings, no nothing. He's here squaring away the day's work." John kept an eye out as Manchester fiddled with the security system.

Soon, Manchester said, "There. We should be fine now." He tried the door. No alarms went off. "Do the honors, please," Manchester said, gesturing towards the still-locked doors. John took the hinges in his fists and crushed them, tearing them off and letting the door down gently. "Good," Manchester said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Wouldn't want to alert the guards. Come on." John and Manchester, hidden by Manchester's abilities, stalked down the main hall of the first floor, looking for guards. They found four, patrolling the hall. "Watch this," Manchester said, looking towards two of the guards. He gently turned his hand, focusing intently on the guards. They removed their stun guns from their holsters, turning them on each other and firing. The other two immediately took notice. Before they could sound the alarm, John rushed forward, faster than any normal man, and grabbed one of them, effortlessly chucking him into his counterpart, knocking them both soundly unconscious. "Good job, John!" Manchester commended, "You're getting better at this every day." He started walking towards the stairwell, continuing, "Now, let's…" John pointed to his left, saying, "There's an elevator." "There is a lift," Manchester said, turning on his heel and following John into it. "Who cares," John muttered under his breath. Manchester carefully used his powers to pick the lock that would allow them to get up to the top floor, where Luthor's office resided.

"All right then," Manchester said as they began moving up. He stood next to John, his hands clasped in front of him. After a few seconds, Manchester casually turned and said to John, "Tall building." "Uh-huh," John responded, staring straight ahead. "'Uh-huh', indeed," Manchester nodded, turning away and beginning to rock back and forth. "Can you stay still for a minute?" John asked, beginning to get irritated. "Well, you know, I'm usually accustomed to more action," Manchester said, "Like a lot of moving, throwing things around, the works. I'm not used to waiting." "I'm sure," John said, trying to keep his composure. Manchester stayed still after that, eventually saying, "I ever told you how much I hate the music they use in lifts? It's practically grating." Before Manchester could go on, the doors to the elevator opened, and John was the first out, gasping, "Oh, thank God." "What?" Manchester said, "Just trying to make friendly conversation." John ignored him, walking straight to the receptionist's desk.

Mercy was still behind the desk, typing on the computer in front of her. Manchester caught up with John, whispering, "Let me handle this." He walked up to the desk, resting his elbow on it and revealing himself, asking, "Could you show us in, miss? It's absolutely necessary I see your boss." Mercy quickly stood, transforming her arm. Manchester swore loudly and ducked just in time for a bolt of energy to just miss his head. He scrambled backwards, forming an energy shield and saying, "Oi! Where'd they hire _you_?!" Mercy didn't respond. She simply smirked, firing off another shot before she found herself in an unnaturally powerful sleeper hold. Mercy tried to fire at her assailant, but all it evoked was a quiet grunt and the sound of sizzling metal. Eventually, Mercy stopped struggling as she dropped off. Without a word, Manchester and John busted down the doors to Luthor's office, finding the large, ornate swivel chair at the end of the gigantic table in the room facing away from them. "Manchester," a voice said, "John. How are you?" The chair turned, revealing a grinning Alexander.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER XVI

"You've, uh…changed your look," Alexander said, raising his eyebrows at John, "I like it." John didn't say a thing, while Manchester said, "Wait a minute. You're…" Alexander nodded, interrupting, "The guy who made John this way. I'm sure the information startles you." "What're you doing here?" John asked. "Protecting my assets," Alexander answered, "Luthor works for me, you see. And Manchester, while you may be able to read people's minds, I see more than you do. Luthor is somewhere safe. I don't even know where." John was obviously trying to keep himself back, saying, "You've ruined me! I'm barely a person anymore! Why?" "I thought Mr. Black here explained that to you," Alexander responded casually, "You're supposed to fight Superman." "Who says I have to follow your designs?" John said defiantly. "Designs change," Alexander said, "You have to be flexible with these things, just a like a sword. You're too brittle, you break. I still have no doubt that you and Superman will eventually come to blows." Manchester glared at Alexander, sighing, "I guess you'll have to do." He began charging up his shot, planning to kill Alexander. "Wait," Alexander held up his hands, "Before you do that…" He tossed a file across the table to Manchester and John, finishing, "Read this. I have fail-safes everywhere, in the case of my death. And believe me, they'll put one big damper on your plans." Manchester eyed the file, turning to John and saying, "Read it." John gingerly picked it up, opening it and reading it over and over.

John put the file back on the table, sighing, "We kill him, everything goes sideways. This guy's not someone we want to mess with." "You've got that right, John," Alexander agreed, nodding, "I am most certainly not." Manchester lowered his hand, saying, "All right, fine. What's the deal, then? You obviously want us to do something." "You're a smart one," Alexander said, "Yeah, I want you to do something for me. Leave me and my people alone. Kill whoever else you want, but make sure you never involve yourself with me again." "And if I decide to rail against your request?" Manchester said suggestively. Alexander laughed, saying, "If John wants to read the file out loud…" All three inhabitants of the room remained silent until Alexander continued, "Look, I get it. You're a busy guy. You've got ambitions. And I wish you the best of luck regarding your whole Superman quest. The thing is, my ambitions and my business are both bigger. They're both more overreaching. So really, getting in my way isn't even something that should interest you." "I see…you know what you're doing," Manchester said slowly, "And…I suppose we can agree to your terms." "Great," Alexander smiled, "You two have a wonderful day, and grab some mints on your way out. Mercy!" Mercy walked in, red marks on her neck. "Show them out, please," Alexander continued, "Gently. We can't abide grudges." Mercy rolled her eyes, doing as Alexander said. Alexander chuckled lightly, turning on his phone and looking over the strip of coding he'd recently acquired, sighing in satisfaction.

On their way out, Manchester and John didn't talk nearly as much. Manchester asked John as they departed from the building, "How could someone be that powerful? It seems unreal." "I'm having a hard time believing it, too," John responded, "Believe me. That file was…ridiculous. But just look at me. If he has the resources to change me like this, then I don't think any of it's a bluff." Manchester clenched his jaw and shook his head, angry that someone had shown him up. John continued, "What did he mean about a 'Superman quest'? That's not what this is about…right?" "…No," Manchester answered, not meeting John's eyes. "Maybe we shouldn't keep doing this," John suggested, "I mean, maybe he's just wanting us to take out the competition for him. He could be treating us like pawns." "Maybe," Manchester said, "But whether or not he is, it's all worth it." "I wish I could still have an easy time believing that," John said, hanging his head. Manchester sighed, "So do I, John. So do I." They walked away from the Lexcorp building, intending never to visit it again.

Two days later, amid news reports that Manchester had attacked again, I walked somberly into the Daily Planet building. Whoever saw me didn't say anything to me. They just gave me that look. You know the one. It's the look you get when someone doesn't know what to say, or when they think saying anything at all would offend you. As I got into the elevator, I thought about how a simple "I'm sorry" would've felt really good, as cliché as it may be. When I reached the floor I worked on, I walked out of the elevator, sitting at my desk. I had several stories to edit, but as I read over the drafts, I couldn't. I felt out of focus and just drained. Mr. White walked out of his office, coming over to me and saying, "You look like your brain's frozen up." "Yeah, sure feels that way," I mumbled, my eyes still locked on the phrase "that that" in one draft. Mr. White sighed, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "Set that down, kid," he said gently. I lowered the draft, clenching my jaw and looking up at Mr. White. He looked into my eyes, continuing, "You know, kid, I remember the day Lois Lane walked in here and applied for an internship." He looked to his right, pointing and adding, "She ended up in that desk right over there." "She must've been pretty insistent," I chuckled, looking over at her desk. "That's right," Mr. White replied, looking back at me, "She wouldn't take no for an answer. Whenever she got the chance to catch a bigger story, she always… _always_ did her best. She was a scrappy one." "I know all that," I sighed. "I hope you also know that this…hurts me too, kid," Mr. White said, his breathing becoming shaky, "You know, she…she might've been an intern, but she was…a big part of this paper. Seeing her name on a story did everyone proud. And I just want you to know…I'm sorry, Clark." I took a long, shaky breath, letting the words wash over me. "Thank you, Mr. White," I began crying, "Thank you." Mr. White stood, putting a firm hand on my shoulder and saying, "You should take the week off. You've got a funeral to go to. We all do." I nodded, my head sinking lower and lower.

As I walked out of the building, I found Jimmy waiting for me. He said, "The funeral's tomorrow, Clark. I figured we should look into some suits." I stopped and stared off into space, saying, "I've never had to pick out a suit and tie for a friend's funeral." "Neither have I," Jimmy said seriously. He almost hailed a taxi, but I caught his arm and said, "Let's just…walk. I think it'll feel nicer." We walked along the sidewalk past crowds of people going to work, a restaurant, back home, and all kinds of other places. As I looked at some of the faces passing us by, it felt odd to see joy on some of their faces. It felt odd that some of them didn't know my friend had died. It felt odd that some of them didn't hear about an eighteen-year-old girl's funeral, or that her family would be forced to bury an empty coffin. "I've been thinking, Jimmy," I broke the silence between us, "I can't…I think I need to stop being Superman. For a few days. I want to take a break, you know?" "I get it," Jimmy nodded, "With what's happened…I guess…we need to be ourselves." "It's kind of selfish, isn't it?" I said, looking at the ground as I walked. Jimmy sighed, "Maybe. Maybe it is." Though we didn't say it, we agreed. Everything felt warped and sick, and Superman and Flamebird didn't seem to us like they'd help matters. Walking up to the entrance of the fitting store didn't help either.

The cheerful smile the fitter at the front desk as he greeted us bordered on offensive to me. "What're you looking for today?" he asked. "Just a suit and tie," I answered quietly, wearing a straight face. His smiled faltered slightly as he said, "All right, then. Let me show you here…" As we looked around, the numbness I felt was acutely intensified. I hated to look at how fancy some of the suits looked. Why should I dress up when she was killed in plain clothes? Why should I show her up? Why should anyone? I swallowed the lump in my throat, a few tears streaming down my face. I hastily wiped them off, making an effort not to let Jimmy or the fitter notice. Soon enough, I was standing in front of a mirror, straightening the tie that went with the suit. The fitter asked, "This is a pretty expensive one." "Yeah," I nodded. "You guys go to Metropolis University?" he asked. I swallowed again before responding, "Yes, that's right." "Why not just rent a suit?" the fitter asked, "It'd suck less out of your wallet." I had a difficult time not blowing up at the fitter, instead, looking towards the ceiling, back down again, and replying, "No, it's worth buying one." "What's the occasion?" the fitter asked. "Just something…for a very close friend," I struggled to say. Again, as I looked towards the fitter, his expression told me he'd figured out what was happening. I found the piercing pain in his lack of words yet again. He looked at me with feigned empathy with his stupid eyes. I looked away from him. He couldn't know what I was going through. Not since Lois' death was my fault.

Jimmy kept a more even composure during his fitting, answering the fitter's questions in a more friendly tone. When we had finished, we bought the suits and exited the store. As I walked, I couldn't help staring at the suit I was carrying, and an earlier thought returned to me. "Jimmy, was Lois' death my fault?" I asked. Jimmy and I stopped walking. We were constantly buffeted by passers-by, though we didn't pay them any heed. Jimmy hesitated. I continued, "Jimmy, answer me honestly." "Clark, if you're looking to punish yourself…" Jimmy tried. I shouted, "I'M NOT LOOKING FOR ANYTHING!" I noticed several people near us glance over in shock. I repeated quietly, "I'm not…looking for anything. I just want something that makes sense. I want something different from Lois, an innocent, bright girl, being brutally killed. I want the confirmation that I'm the reason she died. There's some kind of clarity there, at least." Jimmy answered, "I can't confirm anything for you, Clark. The thought that this was your fault never came to me. I know you try your best to protect your friends. Look, I don't believe that anything you've done killed Lois, and I never will. But this is something you have to work through yourself." It killed me that he hadn't said it was my fault. Even though I denied it, maybe…I _did_ want to be punished. In my confused and angry state of mind, I said, "All right, fine. I'll see what I can do by myself." I stormed off as Jimmy protested, "Clark!" I waved him off, pushing past anyone in my way and never stopping to look back on my way to our dorm.

I never hailed a taxi to reach the dorm. I just walked. It was all I felt like doing. I didn't want to fly. I didn't want to use any of my powers. They didn't feel worth anything. I'd already failed too many people using them. When I finally got onto campus, I was glad seeing the students that never looked at me. It spared me. I didn't even remember my way to my closet in the dorm. I just remember hiding Superman with my suit and tie. I didn't want to see him.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER XVII

The following morning, I woke up before Jimmy and put on my suit and tie. I got ready as fast as I could, getting out of the dorm and hailing a taxi on the edge of campus. Because there wasn't a body to bury, the only funeral they could hold was closer to a memorial. They held it at the gym of her old high school in Metropolis. When I arrived, I noticed that I was early and stayed outside, not wanting to intrude. The doors suddenly opened, and a black-haired man in his forties walked out. "Oh, you must be Lois' father," I said. "Yes," he laughed lightly, "Name's Sam Lane. Is it the hair?" "I think so, yeah," I nodded. "Well, come on in," he said, "We're finished setting up." I walked inside, noticing a buffet line at the far wall, a row of tables outlining Lois' life against the near wall, many other tables with chairs, and a podium on the gym's stage. I looked over to Mr. Lane, saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't introduced myself. I'm Clark Kent. I worked with Lois at the Daily Planet." "She told us plenty about you," Mr. Lane chuckled, shaking my hand. "Not all bad, I hope," I responded. "Really the opposite," Mr. Lane raised his eyebrows, "She really knew you as her friend." "It's…very good to hear that," I said. I looked to my left, noticing two blonde girls, one younger than Lois and another I recognized. "Hi, Paige," I said. She walked up to me and hugged me tightly, saying, "Thank you for coming, Clark." "How could I not?" I said, resting my chin on her head. Despite how bitter I was feeling, I added, "Jimmy should be here soon." Paige separated from me, only being able to say, "Thanks." I looked away from her, wondering who the other blonde was.

Suddenly, Mr. Lane said, "That's Lucy, Lois' little sister. She gets the hair from her late mother." "I'm sorry for your loss, sir," I said. "Thank you, son," he replied. Lucy, who looked to be around sixteen, was on her phone, saying, "So you're sure you'll make it?" I leaned over to Mr. Lane, asking, "Who's she talking to?" "The boy she's dating, Ron Troupe," Mr. Lane scoffed, "If you ask me, she's too young to be dating, and high school relationships are bad news, but…Ron's a good kid. And, well, Lois encouraged Lucy and Ron. How could I take that away, especially at a time like this?" "I understand," I said. The doors opened and Jimmy walked through, saying frantically, "I'm not late, am I?" Mr. Lane answered, "Not at all. I'm glad you could make it. You must be Jimmy." "Am I the only red-headed friend she had?" Jimmy asked, laughing. "Just about," Mr. Lane laughed in response. Paige ran up to Jimmy and kissed him, hugging him around his neck and saying, "This would've meant a lot to Lois. I hope you know that." "Believe me, we do," I said. I looked over at the line of tables detailing Lois' life. It was filled with photos and mementos and possessions from all parts of her life, from infancy to her teenage years. It felt painfully odd to me that her teenage years were all she got. I walked over to the tables, spying a photo of her from when she was two years old.

I looked at it and laughed. In the photo, a tiny Lois Lane was sitting on the back of a horse in a field, smiling with an indescribable joy as her father kept her steady. Mr. Lane walked up to me as I said, "She was a chubby little kid, wasn't she? And look at that smile!" "You've got that right," Mr. Lane said, smirking, "Happiest toddler I've ever met." "This must've been when you lived in Smallville," I said. "Uh-huh," Mr. Lane replied, "Used to raise horses out there. That was the only time she'd ever been on a horse. I remember she was just amazed at how high up she was." "Was she ever afraid of heights, or anything?" I asked. "She never did like spiders," Mr. Lane answered, "But boy, did she crave adventure." "I could tell," I said. I looked over at the end of the row, seeing a display with all her stories that appeared in the Daily Planet. In the center was a short article introducing her as a new staff member. She had a huge grin on her face and the adventurous look in her eyes she always got when she found something to write about. "She was beautiful," I whispered. Mr. Lane replied, "She sure was. She got it from her mother, of course." "What happened to Mrs. Lane, if you don't mind me asking?" I said. "Ella died in a hit-and-run," Mr. Lane answered sadly, "Drunk driver." "That must've felt terrible, sir," I said, "I can't imagine." "It does feel terrible," Mr. Lane nodded, "But at least she's getting to see Lois as a woman now. All she ever wanted was to see her children grow up." More people had begun to stream inside the gym while we talked, and Mr. Lane finished, "I'd better see to everyone else. It was great meeting you." "You too, sir," I said, shaking Mr. Lane's hand.

The only faces I recognized were my fellow employees at the Daily Planet, including Mr. White himself. It was weird yet somehow comforting to see him all dressed up in something besides the getup he wore at work. I noticed an African-American guy who must've been Ron Troupe walk up to Lucy and hug her. Mr. White walked up to me, saying, "I'm glad to see you here, Clark. You too, Jimmy." Jimmy, standing next to Paige, nodded his thanks. Mr. White walked over to Lucy and said, "Hi, Lucy." "Hi, Uncle Perry," Lucy said, hugging him. "Uncle Perry?" I asked. "Oh, that's right," Mr. White chuckled, "I've known Sam Lane and his family since they moved here. Lucy and Lois started calling me 'Uncle Perry' and it stuck. I was elated when I found out Lois wanted to work as a journalist." "Must've known her better than I did, then," I said. "Don't be so sure," Mr. White replied, "It's probably been said so much already, but she did love you two. When you're good friends with someone, you know things about them no one else does." "Maybe you're right," I conceded. Suddenly, we heard someone tapping on a microphone. Mr. Lane was on the stage saying, "Hello, everyone. As you know, today is the day we remember our beloved Lois. She was a brilliant journalist to the readers of the Daily Planet, a loving friend, a fun sister, and the best daughter a man could ask for. If you don't mind, you can grab a bite and take a seat as we honor her memory this fine day." He put the microphone back in its stand, walking off stage.

I neglected to eat, instead sitting at one of the tables and watching everyone else. I could only pick up bits and pieces of conversations, but many of them seemed to be between people who hadn't seen each other in a very long time. I heard reminiscence about Lois and all she did for them as a friend or family member. There were even some of her high school boyfriends. It occurred to me that these people, no matter how disconnected, had all arrived because of Lois. One person had brought them all together. For the first time since I lost her, I felt a little happiness. It was almost as if she wasn't gone at all, for a moment. Lucy, Ron, Jimmy, and Paige sat down at the same table as me with food. "Excuse us for a second," Jimmy said, beckoning to me and getting up. I walked over to him. Making sure we were out of earshot, Jimmy said, "If we're going to fight, let's do it later, okay? This is her day. Not ours." "I agree," I responded, walking back to the table. As I sat down, I turned to Ron and asked, "So, you're this 'Ron' I've heard about, right?" "Yes," he said cordially, "And you are?" "Clark Kent," I answered, "I was a friend of Lois'. Right here's Jimmy." Jimmy raised his hand and said, "Hey." "Lois didn't say you were dating her friend, Paige," Lucy said, surprised. "That makes sense," Paige said, "She never liked making a big fuss about anything." "I know that for sure," I said. We heard Mr. Lane speaking over the microphone again, saying, "Now, I'm going to deliver Lois' eulogy later, but for now, if any of you would like to say a few words, the mic is open." He walked off the stage to make way for anyone wanting to pay their respects.

Friends and family members, one after another, went up to the stage to deliver kind words about Lois, offering differing perspectives and memories. I learned more about Lois in those moments than I probably would have in a year. I learned about old interests, funny mannerisms, memorable vacation stories, collections and hobbies she gained and lost over the years, and her perpetual fascination with journalism from day one. As I listened to all the emotional speakers, I only wished that I could've talked to Lois about those things in person. Eventually, no one came up to the podium, and Mr. Lane prepared to finish the memorial. However, to everyone's surprise, I, a mere stranger to them, stood up and approached the stage. The few seconds going to the microphone felt like an eternity, as I pondered what to say about Lois. I looked to Mr. Lane, who didn't say a word. I took a deep breath as I took the microphone in my hand. I began nervously, "I think you can already tell I'm not much of a public speaker." I heard a few scattered laughs in the crowd, which didn't help me any. I looked over at Jimmy and Paige, who were giving me reassuring smiles. I turned and looked at Mr. White, who simply nodded for me to go on. "I, uh…" I struggled to find the words. I continued, "I didn't know Lois nearly as long as any of you here. I only knew her for a few months, in fact. I guess that's enough, sometimes. It's…it's odd to think that we started off as coworkers. It never really felt like it. Or at least, I can't remember it that way. We all know Lois was one tough girl, and she took her job seriously, but…I guess it was something about her. I took her on one date. Just one. I never got the chance to take her on the second one. I…I loved her, and everyone keeps telling me that she loved me back. My only regret today is that…I couldn't help her. Out of all the stupid mistakes I'm…sure I've made in my life, that's all I really look back on and feel…shame for. I can only hope that she's forgiven me. She was so wonderful. Maybe she has. At least I'll remember her for the rest of my life. Let's all do that. It's the least we could do." As with everyone else, there was scattered applause, and with a slight smile, I stepped off the stage as Mr. Lane stepped up.

Mr. Lane's eulogy brought all of us to tears and only reinforced what we knew Lois was already. Unlike all the other speeches people gave, Mr. Lane was given a standing ovation from the crowd, letting him know that he'd done his daughter proud. After the memorial, I stepped outside with Mr. White, Jimmy, and Paige. Paige mentioned that she would be staying in Metropolis for the week with Mr. Lane and Lucy, which made Jimmy ecstatic. As we talked, I felt myself get more and more exhausted from being around so many people at once, and eventually, I said, "Hey, guys, this was absolutely beautiful, but I think I need to get some rest. I still have a lot to process, and I'm…not so good with crowds." "I'm just glad you were able to make it, Clark," Paige said. Mr. White added, "We all are. It doesn't matter to us how long you knew Lois. You were her friend." "Thank you, everyone," I said. I called a taxi, and as I waited, felt relieved that I had removed Superman from the picture. I felt like I didn't have to worry about as much anymore. I felt normal. When the cab finally arrived, I eagerly hopped in and gave the driver the address of my dorm. I absentmindedly fiddled with my necklace on the way there. I was unsettled for some reason. Something felt off. How right that feeling was.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER XVIII

As soon as I got back, I flopped into my bed, sighing heavily. The past few days had felt surreal. I almost wished it was a dream. But then, I'd be deluding myself. The pain was too real to be a dream, and I knew it. I took off my necklace, thinking back to when I first realized its meaning. "Hope," I said to myself quietly, running my thumb over the symbol. "What kind of hope can I find now?" I thought out loud, "Then again, it's all I have." I sat up, repeating, "It's all I have." I stood, walking over to my closet and taking a long look at Superman. The symbol across the chest caught my eye, as it had many times before, and I continued, "I guess I'd better hold on to it, then." I closed the closet, kicking off my shoes and laying back down. I took a deep breath, staring at my necklace again. I reluctantly whispered, "Open communication." "Hello, Kal," a saddened Kelex said. "Of course you know," I rolled my eyes. "I _do_ have access to every news feed around the world," Kelex acknowledged. I rolled the necklace around between my fingers. I didn't say anything for a while, and neither did Kelex. There wasn't really anything we could say that hadn't already been. "Kelex?" I asked slowly. "Yes?" Kelex responded patiently. I swallowed, asking, "What did it feel like…when you woke up in the Fortress…and you knew my parents weren't there?" Kelex fell dead silent, pausing longer than any other time I'd talked to him.

He eventually replied, "I remember being deactivated, feeling my A.I. get extracted and put into your first necklace, and then…nothing, for eighteen years. The last thing I thought before we left was, 'I hope that somehow, they make it out'. Jor-El was the best master a robot could hope for. If I ever made a mistake, he found and tweaked whatever it was that was messing me up, no matter how long it took. He didn't just sink some money into a new robot, like everyone else did. He could've afforded it, but he didn't. And best of all, he gave me a _personality_! Few robots got that on Krypton. Mostly, they were glorified power tools. I was a member of the family. I had the ability to make friends, get angry, laugh. I could be funny…kind of. For all Jor-El did for me, I so wanted him and Lara to make it. Imagine how I felt when I finally saw the light of day again, and they weren't there. They hadn't made it. I could only think how I wasn't able to do anything for them. And then I noticed someone else in the Fortress. Another Kryptonian! And wouldn't you know it, it was Kal-El, Jor-El's only son. He'd finally gotten here. He'd finally discovered his heritage and his purpose. Ever since that day, I still miss Jor-El and Lara. But I _am_ doing something for them. I'm helping take care of their son. And let me tell you, I don't want anything more while I'm here. And…I know why you called me. You need someone to relate to. Everyone does when this happens. All I have to say is that you shouldn't give up, no matter how cliché it is. I know the regret of not being able to help someone, but you still can. You can still honor your friend's memory." "Thank you, Kelex," I responded quietly. "I'm always here," Kelex said. "Close communication," I said, drifting off.

What I knew had to be hours later, I was shaken awake by Jimmy. "What's your deal, man?" I groaned. "Look, I know you're really mad right now, but you have to see this!" Jimmy insisted. "All right, what is it?" I asked, agitated. Jimmy held up his phone, playing a video from a newscast. The anchor began, "Just hours ago, the infamous criminal known as Manchester Black was spotted in downtown Metropolis. His most recent crime was the murder of Lois Lane, a reporter at the Daily Planet. This video was captured by a hidden camera installed in a broken light over the alley that Black took temporary refuge in. It was planted by a nearby resident who wished to keep his identity a secret." The newscast then went on to show the footage, showing Manchester stumble out of a bar. The anchor explained that Manchester had killed an entire group of organized criminals inside. The video then showed Manchester leaning against a wall, breathing heavily. He'd already taken out the security camera on the outside of the bar. Thankfully, whatever kind of paranoid person this was, they knew how to hide a camera. Soon, Manchester grimaced and disappeared, using what was left of his strength to escape. "Where was he going?" I asked. Jimmy put away his phone, answering, "They say he was going in the general direction of an apartment building. They're not known for their screening processes or their security." I looked down at the floor. I wasn't sure if I was ready.

"I knew we said we'd hang up our costumes for a while, but this is too much too ignore," Jimmy said, "We might have a chance to catch this guy in his own hideout! We don't have just unreliable info that'll throw us in unprepared! We'll surprise him! Our little breaks can wait. They have to." A huge part of me wanting to say "no" again and again. I was still mad at Jimmy. I was still unwilling to become Superman again so soon. In spite of myself, I sighed, "Fine. Let's do it. We really do have to stop this, don't we?" "Yeah, we sure do," Jimmy said, as much to my chagrin as it is. And this time…we stay together. I'm not letting you fly off the handle." I nodded, "All right. I understand." "Good," Jimmy said, "Let's end this. And let's be cautious. It's not like Manchester is ignorant. He'll know about his mistake eventually, and he might try to leave Metropolis. We come for him then, he'll expect it, and…well, you remember what's happened before." "Unfortunately," I murmured, getting up and walking to the closet. I stared at Superman again, reaching for him while saying, "I'm not going to like this." Jimmy donned the Flamebird suit. Noticing I was just holding Superman, Jimmy asked, "You ever going to put that on?" I sighed, "Yeah." In spite of myself, I put on the identity of Superman much sooner than I had wanted, flying out of the dorm without waiting for Jimmy.

Meanwhile, Manchester had returned to the apartment where he was keeping Lois prisoner. He removed the tape over her mouth while whispering, "Remember, no one wants a hole in their head. Hush up." Lois sneered and yet stayed silent. "I've got some exciting news, I do!" Manchester grinned as though he wasn't talking to his hostage, "I'm on TV again, you fit girl! It may allow Superman to find me faster, but honestly, bring him on! I'm just…dying with anticipation! I may not get to see the sad look that _will_ be on your face, but boy, will I imagine it to no end! Meanwhile, though, I've got to hide you better…" Lois, the hope draining out of her, said quietly, "No…" "Oh, but yes," Manchester laughed. As he prepared to unbind Lois, he knocked her out with a hard punch to the side of her face reinforced with psychic energy. Suddenly, Manchester heard a voice say, "What's this?" He turned to see John standing there, looking as stern as could be without recognizable facial features. "Well, John, I might ask you the same question," Manchester said angrily, "What're you doing here?" "I followed you, Manchester," John answered, "We don't usually split up. It's too dangerous. I wondered what you could possibly want to separate. And I find you here with this girl, who's supposed to be dead." "Look, I'm not doing anything to her," Manchester insisted, "Not the gross stuff anyway." "I can see that, but Manchester, this is cruel," John shook his head, "I can understand killing criminals. At least they deserve it. But you said that Superman wasn't going to be a part of this!" "Now, really, John, did you think you could trust everything I say?" Manchester asked nonchalantly. He added, "Remember, we still have work to do. And it's not like you could hurt me." John, as much as he hated the fact, knew that Manchester was right. So he stood down.

At the same time, Jimmy and I were searching throughout the area where Manchester was spotted. We'd asked locals and people just staying nearby. Most of the time, we were separate, courtesy of me. Jimmy eventually caught up with me, saying, "Hey, I was serious about not splitting up!" "I got that," I brushed him off. "No, really, Clark!" Jimmy insisted, "We can't do this this way! Look, here's that mask Kelex made. You'll need this when we find Manchester, remember?" He pulled it out of a pocket in the Flamebird suit, holding it out to me. "I'll get it from you when I need it," I said under my breath, flying away before he could say anything else. As he saw me leave, he sighed, "Come on." In order to catch up with me yet again, he had to push the Flamebird suit to its limits. On the brink of declaring me a lost cause, Jimmy managed to grab my shoulder mid-flight and say, "Wait a minute! I've got an idea!" "What is it, Jimmy?" I asked in anticipation. "What if you use your X-ray vision?" Jimmy said. "That won't work," I dismissed his idea, "Manchester can hide himself psychically at all times as long as he's got some kind of fuel." "That's just it!" Jimmy pointed, "His fuel is a bunch of energy drinks and food, right?" I nodded, signaling for him to go on. "Well, it's not like he just make _that_ stuff disappear all the time," Jimmy continued, "So all that we need is to find where he's thrown away everything! We look for the most Gatorade bottles, the most Five Hour Energy bottles, the most protein bar wrappers, whatever! The more we find, the more likely he's there." "All right then," I agreed, "Let's get it over with." Jimmy grinned, and I rolled my eyes.

We flew around the area, searching through each and every alleyway dumpster. Sometimes there'd be nothing but rats and bad takeout, sometimes we'd find a little of what we were looking for, but not enough. After a while, Jimmy said, "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all." "Wait a minute," I said suddenly, "I think…" I trailed off, walking towards the dumpster I'd been looking through. Inside was load of exactly what we needed to see. I picked up a crushed Amp can, saying, "This is it." Jimmy looked inside, seeing the remnants of all the other energy boosters Manchester always had with him. "Looks like you were right, Jimmy," I said, looking at the apartment building, "This is the place. This is where Manchester is staying." "We're going to have to fight him," Jimmy breathed, "We have to get anyone else in there outside." We went away from the dumpster, entering the apartment building as quietly as possible. The man at the front desk asked, "S-Superman? What do you need?" "I just need to get everyone out of here as quickly and as silently as possible," I answered, "It's very possible that you have a very dangerous man on the premises, and he isn't above using others to get his way." The man nodded, helping us clear out the building, one apartment at a time.

John was still busy arguing with Manchester when Manchester suddenly held up his hand and said, "I'm sorry, John, but this'll have to wait. We now have bigger fish to fry." "Superman's here," John predicted. "Oh, yes," Manchester responded, "And he's got his sights set. His friend does, too. Though I must say they're in very different directions." "So what then?" John asked, knowing this was more important. "We wait, of course," Manchester answered with a smirk.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER XIX

As we cleared out all the tenants, I felt odd, as though time was running out on…something. I wasn't sure what at the time. All I knew is that it was like having a bomb with no timer strapped to my chest. With this distracting me, I barely kept focus while getting everyone out. Jimmy noticed, asking, "What's with the half-vacant expression?" "It's just a feeling," I responded coldly. "What kind of feeling?" Jimmy asked, "When you get a 'feeling', it doesn't usually turn out well." "I think I'm just jittery," I replied, "Don't make too much out of it." "I've been your friend for way too long to do that," Jimmy said, "You'd better stay in sight, or I'm not pulling any punches when I find you." I didn't think Jimmy could stand a fight up against me, simply grunting in response. "I know I keep saying this, but I want justice for Lois just as much as you," Jimmy sighed, "That won't happen if you do what I _know_ you want to." I decided to stay quiet. "I guess that's it, then," Jimmy said, "You just shut up so you don't have to deal with yourself." I clenched my jaw, continuing to get everyone out as calmly as possible. "I wish you wouldn't," Jimmy said quietly, "I wish you wouldn't be so angry." I tried to get a little farther away from Jimmy, resolving to lose him later. I wasn't going to come right out and say it, but Jimmy was right. It was my plan to kill Manchester Black.

In Manchester's apartment, the scene was void of any sign of Lois. He'd locked her in a closet, loosely bound and gagged, leaving the chair in the middle of the room. "When he gets here, what then?" John asked, "We haven't met his sidekick yet. We have no idea what he brings to the table." "Whatever it is, _you_ should be able to handle it," Manchester pointed to John. "Why does it fall to me?" John asked, "Are you really going to take on Superman, who probably wants to kill you? No, wait, there's no way he doesn't want to kill you." Manchester's tone grew quiet as he responded, "Yes, I am going to. Superman might be a toughie, but…as you know, I've got plenty of tricks up my sleeve." "Are you sure you aren't overestimating your abilities?" John questioned seriously, "We were able to hold him off together, but just you? I have a hard time believing it." "Oh come on, if I'm able to get focused at the right moment, boom, he's down," Manchester replied confidently. "Sure, the 'right moment'," John said, "Who're you trying to convince?" John sighed, turning and walking out of the apartment. He added, "I'm going to stay out here, in case they come earlier than expected." As he closed the door, Manchester mused, "Who am I trying to convince? Huh…that's an excellent question." Staring at the chair, he finished, "Time to get artsy." He knew exactly what he wanted me to see.

John, under the psychic protection of Manchester, was able to witness us fly around the building, finishing the job of evacuation. Eventually, we walked right by him as Jimmy asked, "Is that everyone?" My stomach felt like it was trying to crawl its way out as I answered, "I think so." Jimmy said, "All we have to do now is figure out if Manchester is here. There were still some empty apartments." We flew slowly, trying to avoid alerting Manchester as much as possible. John followed us at the same pace, treading as lightly as he could. The tension he felt was near unbearable, fearing that we'd turn at an inopportune time and discover him. In reality, he had nothing to worry about. We were both caught up in our own quarrels, almost oblivious to anything else. Even so, John was constantly looking for the right moment. The moment when he could strike against us. He scanned every hallway, every door, anticipating that we'd stop there. He waited until we found ourselves inside an apartment across the building and a few floors up from Manchester's. _This is it,_ John thought. "I don't think he's here," I said after standing still and listening. I looked around, searching under everything. I moved away from Jimmy, allowing John to tackle Jimmy. Manchester released his shielding, revealing John.

John straddled Jimmy, raising his fist above his head. "This'll hurt you more than it'll hurt me," he growled. He struck downwards. Jimmy managed to catch John's fist. John attempted to hit Jimmy with his other fist, finding himself in the same situation. Struggling underneath John's immense strength, Jimmy said through gritted teeth, "Help me out!" I had frozen where I stood. I looked at Jimmy, snapping out of it and rushing John. I picked him up by his neck, tossing him off of Jimmy. "Are you okay?" I asked him, helping him up. "I'm fine," Jimmy answered, "Glad to see you're feeling more sympathetic." John got up, facing us. "You know this won't be easy," he said. "Of course," Jimmy said. I looked back and forth between John and Jimmy for a few seconds, asking Jimmy, "You think you can handle this guy?" Jimmy shrugged, "Maybe. But I'll probably need…" I interrupted by zooming past him and pushing John's back. John went flying, hitting Jimmy and sending the both of them out the window. I whispered, "Sorry, Jimmy. I have to do this." I flew away from the apartment, checking the others at my own pace. Jimmy and John tumbled to the ground, landing on their backs. They had managed to separate themselves midair, meaning that the damage wasn't as bad as it could've been. Jimmy groaned and got up, gazing at the broken window above. He widened his eyes, shoving his hand into his pocket. He felt the protective mask still inside. "Eyes up, kid," he heard John say. He looked up just as John attacked.

I had other things on my mind. I was searching frantically, looking for any sign of Manchester. Every time I entered an apartment, I said something threatening, like, "You can't hide forever," or, "You're dead, you hear me?" It almost felt like I wasn't me anymore, but at that point, I didn't care. I wanted revenge on Lois' killer, and that's what I was set on getting. Eventually, I entered an apartment with a different feeling to it. It felt strange. "Funny that you don't have anything to protect yourself," I heard Manchester say. I suddenly remembered the mask. But I couldn't get it. Not then. "You know why I'm here, Manchester," I said. "Oh really?" Manchester said eerily, "Why might that be, Superman?" "I'm here…to avenge the death of a local girl," I answered slowly, trying to keep my composure, "Her name was Lois Lane." "You're going to have a hard time, then," Manchester clicked his tongue, "Because, you see, you've misidentified why you're here. You don't know what you're talking about, and you're talking about you! Remember, I know who you are. 'Avenge'? Try 'taking revenge'. We both know that's what this is about. Take off your mask and admit it. Then we fight." I clenched my fist. I didn't want to fold. _But this is for Lois,_ I thought. I slowly took off my hood and mask, saying, "I'm here to take revenge for Lois Lane's death." Manchester materialized.

But something else had taken shape right behind him. It was Lois' body, stretched across the floor. The wounds were all the same, and her eyes remained as empty as before. I could only look at her eyes for what felt like an eternity. Those same eyes had enchanted me on a date night not too long before. The same cold, stiff hands had held mine. The mouth agape in death had sent out laughs, formed smiles, and even kissed me on the cheek. I looked up at Manchester. He wasn't smiling. He had a completely straight face, as though he only wanted to see my reaction. "Why?" was all I could say. He didn't bother answering. He even went so far as to light up a cigarette and begin smoking. "Answer, you worm!" I shouted in anger. "I don't owe you an answer," he finally said, "This is a battle, both of wits and strengths. You want an answer from an opponent, play a board game." I walked up to him, grabbing his shirt and growling, "Before I make you unrecognizable as human, I'm going to _make_ you answer." "You really think so?" Manchester raised his eyebrows, "A guy like me, you can just get information out of?" He was able to push my hands off of him, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and turning around. He looked down at Lois' body. He suddenly kicked it lightly. "Almost looks alive that wa…" Manchester began. I interrupted by punching him in the chest, just hard enough that he'd stumble backwards. He laughed, even when I followed up with another punch.

I grabbed him by his throat, whispering, "I'm not going to make this quick." "Wouldn't expect anything less, friend," Manchester grinned. I tossed him to the far side of the room, stopping where I was to wait for him to get up. As he stood, he chuckled, "You're really a sore one, aren't you?" He took another puff of his cigarette. "Why aren't you fighting back?" I asked. "Are you really concerned about that?" he answered in response. "Come on, fight back!" I yelled, flipping a nearby couch, "Come on! Don't just stand there!" "Fine," Manchester sighed, rolling his eyes. The very next thing, Manchester was clutching my hair and holding my head back, reinforcing his grip with psychic energy. "I just put you to sleep standing," Manchester gloated. "Why don't you just use that to get out of here, then?" I seethed. "Maybe I want to have fun, too," Manchester fake pouted. He slammed my head into the floor, busting it right through. I reared up quickly, reaching back over my head. I grabbed Manchester, flipping him head over heels into the ground in front of me. "You want it to end yet?" I taunted. "You might think me a deviant, but no," Manchester said, chomping down on the cigarette. "Fine," I said. I didn't care as much about making a point anymore. I just wanted to end Manchester Black. I grabbed his shirt, throwing him clear through the wall into the next apartment. When he got back up, he was clutching at his left arm. "You weren't kidding," Manchester said, "This isn't quick." "Boy, am I glad to hear that," I said. I rushed towards him and threw another punch. He staggered backwards, bending over. When he looked back up, he grinned through bloodied teeth. To my bafflement, he even laughed.

In the closet nearby, Lois Lane stirred and groaned. She widened her eyes when she realized where she was. She noticed that her bindings were strangely loose, like Manchester wanted her to get out of them. She slowly but surely wriggled out of them, taking off the gag over her mouth. As she stepped out of the closet, she looked around, hearing a struggle. When she went into the next room, she found me, standing in front of a laughing Manchester. She could see his injuries, becoming alarmed at how ruthless I was acting. She nearly jumped out of her skin when I yelled in outrage, "Why are you laughing?!" I lunged and grabbed Manchester by his ankle, throwing him just past Lois. He landed hard, spitting more blood. I ran over to him, punching him repeatedly in the stomach and chest. His breathing was ragged now, and his powers were weakening as well. He could only hope that I'd finish the job before Lois was revealed. With one more punch to his face, though, his powers were broken, and I heard a quiet, "Clark?" I looked up, my face stained with blood, into Lois' flooding eyes.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER XX

As we were fighting, Jimmy and John had been trading blows as well. At this time, Jimmy's visor was cracked and the armor on his left arm had locked up after being damaged. Meanwhile, one of John's eyes was out of commission and a chunk of his right thigh had been ripped out. The two were grappling almost chest-to-chest, growling like mad animals. They'd both become more desperate when they heard the sounds of walls collapsing from inside the building. They knew they couldn't do this forever. Somebody had called 911 earlier, bringing the police to the location and bringing the situation to a boiling point. The police knew what was going on inside as well, and they also knew that going in would be suicide. The same could be said for interfering with Jimmy's fight with John. And so, they simply kept their guns raised, using their vehicles as shields. Jimmy groaned, forcing John's left hand closer to John's face, releasing his grip and grabbing his head. He attempted to damage his other eye, but John threw his head forward, slamming into Jimmy's helmet, cracking the visor even more. He took Jimmy's legs out from under him, causing him to fall backwards. John pounced on him, slamming his fist into his chest. Jimmy coughed, John's blows beginning to affect him. "You think you can beat me?" John said, clamping his hand around Jimmy, "I was in the military. I was trained. I fight better." To emphasize his point, he raised Jimmy up slightly, slamming his head into the pavement twice.

Jimmy took a shaky breath, his endurance running out with every passing second. He cracked, "Yeah, but you don't have all the gadgets." He shoved his barely moveable left hand into John's right thigh, unleashing a stream of fire into the wound. John's eyes widened, and he got up and away, assessing the damage. As Jimmy slowly got up, John noticed that the movements in his right leg had become more uncoordinated. The mechanical pieces inside had been severely damaged. "That should be just fine," Jimmy said. He turned to the police, continuing, "Make sure he stays here, boys. If he tries to escape, he won't be very fast." He flew off, into the building. As he flew, it almost felt as if time had slowed down. Thoughts were gushing from his mind. He had no idea if either one of us was dead, namely Manchester. In the middle of his contemplation, a section of the building collapsed and buried him underneath. "At least I know I'm close," he sighed. All he could think of then was how much he _needed_ to get out of the rubble, to get to me. He couldn't just leave me alone at a time like this. He couldn't.

A minute later, I was just staring at Lois, for a time that felt like eternity. Her lip trembled and her eyes began overflowing. The trance was broken right after I heard Manchester wheeze, "Oh, come on. Show your girlfriend how you like to do things. Go on, finish." I screamed, "SHUT UP!" and punched Manchester in the face once more, causing Lois to jump again and cover her mouth. Blood masked Manchester's face and drenched his shirt, a sight that for some reason I no longer minded. I looked at Lois' face again, standing up. I looked back down at Manchester, and then at my hands. They were dripping with blood. I tried to reach for Lois, pleading, "Lois…" Lois backed away, sobbing, "No, Clark. No." She shook her head, covering her face. "Lois, he kidnapped you," I defended, "I thought…I thought you were dead. We all did! I went to your memorial!" Lois turned around and uncovered her face, saying softly, "I don't care. He never did anything to me like what you've done to him." I slowly extended my arm, almost reaching her shoulder. I pulled back, however, saying, "Please turn around, Lois. I need to see your face." Tears started streaming down my face as I finished, "I need to see your eyes. You're alive." "I-I'm sorry, Clark," Lois sobbed, "I can't turn around. I can't look at you right now. I can't." Manchester managed to breathe out, "I knew it from the beginning. You're all so fragile." I yelled, ramming my fist into the floor next to Manchester's head. "Don't want to let her down anymore?" Manchester spit blood in my face, "I think you're too late, friend." I stared at Manchester as a smile slowly crept across his bloody face.

I stood over him, whispering, "I can't be here." Lois suddenly turned, asking, "What?" I took a long, shaky breath, looking away from Manchester but refusing to look at Lois. I repeated louder, "I can't be here. I hear your voice, and I know you're crying. If I stay, if I keep working where you work, you won't be able to see me anymore. You'll just see…this. I just want to spare whatever good memories you have left of me." "Clark, no," Lois pleaded, "We can do this together. We can…" "How?" I asked, my voice ragged. I finally looked her in the eyes, continuing, "How? Even looking at you now, I can tell you're disgusted. You can't stand the sight of me because you can't stand the thought of what I've done. And I've done a lot. But worst of all…I haven't been your friend. Not since the first lie I told you. Right now, the only thing I can do that I know is right…is leave. I keep flip-flopping on whether I should be Superman. Now I'm sure I shouldn't. I'm too powerful, and I'm too liable to use that power for the wrong things. I already have, after all." Lois' jaw moved aimlessly, as if she knew whatever she said wouldn't convince me. "I don't think it'd even be right to hug you before I go," I chuckled bitterly, "How would that change anything?" Lois still couldn't find anything to say. I walked to a window in the apartment, turning to look at Lois one more time and say, "Goodbye, Lois. Maybe someday you'll see me again. I guess I really was meant to be alone." I flew off, leaving my mask and hood. Lois slowly walked over to it and picked it up. She held it up to her chest and shut her eyes tightly, beginning to sob.

She heard Manchester cough violently. "If you want a job done right…" he growled weakly. Lois froze as he stood up, looking at her. "Well then," he said, turning his attention to the window, "The people may not hate him, but my, are they going to be disappointed. I can see the headlines now." Lois dropped my mask, grimacing and rushing at Manchester, screeching, "You did this to him! I hate you! I hope you burn in Hell!" She clawed and kicked at him. Manchester, using some of the last of his strength, grabbed her forearms and flung her aside. "You might just get your wish," he said quietly, "If you'll excuse me…I'm still deciding how this ends. I'm not letting Superman take this from me. Not this of all things." He walked past the wall to the next apartment, out of Lois' line of sight. She heard a low _thud,_ as though Manchester had dropped to his knees. She heard a faint, "Tally-ho," and saw a discharge of purple psychic energy zip past the hole in the wall, followed by a sickening series of _thump_ s, capped off by an air of eerie silence speaking of death.

A few minutes later, a weary and desperate Jimmy finally emerged from the rubble, rushing towards the apartment he could swear he heard crying from earlier. "Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath, "I can't be too late. I just can't." Just seconds following, he burst into the apartment, at first spying no one. "Clark?" he asked, "Manchester? Anyone?" "Jimmy…" was faintly heard. Jimmy's eyes widened at the voice. He recognized it. "L-Lois?" he said, "Is that really you?" "Yes," he heard. He looked around the corner, seeing Lois sitting against the wall, her eyes red. She clutched my mask in her hands. "Where's…" he began sadly. "Gone," she interrupted, "He said he had to leave." "What?" Jimmy said, his eyes beginning to sting. Looking at the damage around him, he asked, "What happened to Manchester?" Lois looked in the eye but didn't answer. Jimmy kneeled and clutched Lois' shoulders, saying, "Lois, tell me Clark didn't go through with it. Tell me." Jimmy noticed she glanced at the next apartment. Jimmy looked that direction, getting up and walking past the hole in the wall. He stared at what he found for at least a minute. He turned towards Lois and then exited her line of sight to inspect. She heard rustling, like someone turning over someone else. She heard a heavy sigh of relief as Jimmy walked back towards her, saying, "Clark couldn't have done that. Maybe…it was Manchester's end game." "It was," Lois whimpered. "But why?" a confused Jimmy asked. Lois answered tentatively, "Maybe…he was lonely. He didn't want to be lonely anymore." Jimmy sighed again, saying, "He had a sister, right?" "Yes," Lois answered, the discussion of facts calming her down. "I guess we'd better let her know," Jimmy said. Lois nodded without another word, knowing that it was all they _could_ do.

The next day, all was as normal as it possibly could be. Jimmy attended school, set on pursuing his degree, or at least on distracting himself from my absence. Lois stayed at her parents', needing time to cope. The headline on the Daily Planet's front page read, "HAS SUPERMAN ABANDONED US?" Many were also puzzled at Clark Kent's sudden disappearance, including Perry White and his parents. In fact, everyone in Smallville pulled together to support Jonathan and Martha. It was the least they could do. John Corben went quietly with the police. I was gone and so was Manchester, and all that was left was John's disillusionment. He saw no use in fighting anymore. He was sent to a specially made prison cell with six guards on duty round-the-clock. Lex Luthor continued to make the news with his mysterious and questionable business decisions and weapons advancements. And Alexander still hid behind his vast resources, staying in a more decrepit hotel than was normal for him. He stayed there almost all day and all night, only leaving for the occasional meal or grocery trip. But at all other hours, he was either sleeping or he was seated in front of a desk laden with several computers, all cluttered by countless lines of complex code that Alexander had developed by himself. He wasn't just a financial backer and a compulsive eater. He was a genius as well.

The days seemed to pass quickly, as he was too focused on his task to be bored in the slightest with it. Every time he made a mistake, he rolled his eyes and rewrote it. He never swore in frustration. He rarely spoke at all. It felt nice to have no other obligations to any crime lords for once. Alexander smirked at this thought as he reached for a can of Surge on the desk. He accidentally knocked it over, spilling the contents onto the keyboard. Even this did not upset him as he disconnected the ruined keyboard, tossed it in a nearby trash pile, and reached underneath the desk, where he had placed a trove of computer equipment. After connecting the new keyboard, he walked over to the room's mini-fridge, grabbing another Surge. He cleaned up the mess while sipping on the new can contentedly. He sat back down, knowing the first phase of his project was nearly complete. Soon the code would be able to write itself, if he'd done everything right. Soon his biggest accomplishment would be that much closer. He glanced at the title of the gigantic file, as he had hundreds of times before, and smiled a little wider at how it sounded in his head. He whispered out loud, "Brainiac 1.5." He broke into a grin, set down the Surge, and resumed his work.

END OF BOOK TWO

COMING SOON…THE FINALE TO THE MAN OF TOMORROW TRILOGY…MAN OF TOMORROW: CLARK KENT'S RETURN

THANKS TO ALL MY FOLLOWERS! I'VE BEEN AT THIS FOR OVER TWO YEARS NOW, AND THAT WOULDN'T BE POSSIBLE WITHOUT YOU!


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